THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

Architecture 

GIFT  OF 

Estate   of   s.    H.    Cowell 


BY   MARION    HARLAND 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads,  and  Their  Stories. 

With  86  illustrations.     8°,  gilt  top         .         .         .        $3-°° 

More  Colonial  Homesteads,  and  Their  Stories. 

With  81  illustrations.     8°,  gilt  top         .         .         .        $3.00 

Where  Ghosts  Walk.  The  Haunts  of  Fa 
miliar  Characters  in  History  and  Literature. 
With  33  illustrations.  8°,  gilt  top  ...  $2.50 

Literary  Hearthstones.  Studies  of  the  Home 
Life  of  Certain  Writers  and  Thinkers.  Fully  illustrated, 
1 6°,  gilt  top,  each $1.5° 

The  first  issues  are  : 


Charlotte  Bronte. 
John  Knox. 


William  Cowper. 
Hannah  More. 


(For  Contents,  see  advts.  at  eni 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S   SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON. 


SOME  COLONIAL 
HOMESTEADS  tf  $ 
AND  THEIR  STORIES 
Bv  Marion  Norland 


NEW  YORK  7\XD  LONIX3N 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

1900 


COPYRIGHT,  1897 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 

Set  up  and  electrotyped  Oct.  1897.     Reprinted  Nov.  1897. 
Reprinted  Aug.  1899.     Reprinted  Jan.  1900. 


Add1! 


GIFT 


TTbe  Hmcherbocber  prees,  flew 


ARCH. 
LIBRARY 


To 
THE  HONORABLE  WILLIAM  WIRT   HENRY 

MY    FAITHFUL   AND    HELPFUL    FRIEND 

THIS    VOLUME 

IS    GRATEFULLY    AND    AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED 


211 


PREFACE. 

THE  stories  that  make  romantic  the  Colo 
nial  Homesteads  described  in  this  work, 
were  collected  during  visits  paid  by  myself  to 
those  historical  shrines.  The  task  was  a  labor 
of  love  throughout,  and  made  yet  more  de 
lightful  by  the  o-enerous  kindness  of  those  to 

o  J  o 

whom  I  applied  for  assistance  in  gathering, 
classifying,  and  sifting  materials  for  my  book. 
Family  records,  rare  old  histories,  manuscript 
letters,  valuable  pictures,  and  personal  remi 
niscences,  were  placed  at  my  disposal  with 
gracious  readiness  that  almost  deluded  me, 
the  recipient,  into  the  belief  that  mine  was  the 
choicer  blessing  of  the  giver.  The  pilgrimage 
to  each  storied  home  was  fraught  with  pleasures 
which  I  may  not  share  with  the  public. 

I   have  conscientiously  studied  accuracy  in 
the  historical  outlines  that  frame  my  sketches, 


vi  Preface. 

giving  to  Tradition,  "the  elder  sister  of  His 
tory,"  only  such  credit  as  is  rightfully  hers. 

Thanks  are  due  to  Harper  &  Brothers  for 
permission  to  reprint  from  Harpers  Weekly 
the  chapter  entitled  "  Jamestown  and  Williams- 
burg."  That  upon  Varina  was  published  in 
part  and  under  another  title  in  1892  in  The 
Cosmopolitan  Magazine. 

MARION    HARLAND. 

NEW  YORK,  1897. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — BRANDON — LOWER  AND  UPPER       .         .         i 

II. — WEST/OVER         ....  -33 

III. — SHIRLEY    ...  .63 

IV. — THE  MARSHALL  HOUSE  .  .       84 

V. — CLIVEDEN          ......     104 

VI. — THE   MORRIS   HOUSE,  GERMANTOWN, 

(PHILADELPHIA) 131 

VII. THE    SCHUYLER    AND    CoLFAX    HOUSES, 

POMPTON,  NEW  JERSEY         .         .         .141 

VIII. — THE  VAN  CORTLANDT  MANOR-HOUSE  .     171 
IX.— OAK  HILL  UPON  THE  LIVINGSTON  MANOR     201 

X. — OAK  HILL  UPON  THE  LIVINGSTON  MANOR 

(CONCLUDED) 221 

XL — THE  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE          .         .     239 

XII. — THE  JUMEL  MANSION.    ON  WASHINGTON 

HEIGHTS,  NEW  YORK  CITY  .         .     276 


viii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIII. — THE  JUMEL  MANSION.  ON  WASHINGTON 
HEIGHTS,  NEW  YORK  CITY.  (CON 
CLUDED)  306 

XIV. — THE  SMITH  HOUSE  AT  SHARON,  CONN.    .     327 

XV. — THE    PIERCE    HOUSE    IN    DORCHESTER, 

MASSACHUSETTS    .....     346 

XVI. — THE   "  PARSON  WILLIAMS  "    HOUSE    IN 

DEERFIELD,  MASSACHUSETTS        .         .     375 

XVII.— THE  "PARSON  WILLIAMS"  HOUSE  IN 
DEERFIELD,  MASSACHUSETTS.  (CON 
CLUDED)  ......  403 

XVIII. — VARINA.     THE  HOME  OF  POCAHONTAS,     432 
»  XIX. — JAMESTOWN  AND  WILLIAMSBURG    .         .471 


r 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

HALL  IN  JUMEL  MANSION        .          .          .          Frontispiece 
LOWER  BRANDON    .......         3 

HARRISON  COAT-OF-ARMS       .....         6 

PORTRAIT  OF  COLONEL  DANIEL  PARKE  .         .        17 

"  FROM    TARNISHED    FRAMES    IMPASSIVE    FACES 

LOOKED  DOWN  ON    Us"          .         .         .         .21 

UPPER  BRANDON     .......        29 

BYRD  COAT-OF-ARMS      .  ...       34 

WESTOVER       ........       35 

PORTRAIT   OF  COLONEL  WILLIAM    EVELYN    BYRD 

OF  WESTOVER  .......       39 

PORTRAIT  OF  "  THE  FAIR  EVELYN  "       ...       45 
COLONEL  BYRD'S  TOMB  IN  THE  GARDEN  AT  WEST- 
OVER         51 

"A  CURIOUS  IRON  GATE  "      .  •         •       59 

BERKELEY        ......  .61 

CARTER  COAT-OF-ARMS  ......       66 

PORTRAIT  OF  "KING  CARTER"       ....       67 

PORTRAIT  OF  JUDITH  ARMISTEAD  (WIFE  OF  KING 

CARTER) •       71 

SHIRLEY  .......  -74 

PORTRAIT    OF     ELIZABETH     HILL     CARTER 

("BETTY")       ....  .         .       81 


Illustrations 


MARSHALL  HOUSE,  RICHMOND,  VA.        ...  85 

PORTRAIT  OF  CHIEF-JUSTICE  MARSHALL        .         .  89 
WILLIAM    AND    MARY    COLLEGE,  WILLIAMSBURG, 
VA.,    OF    WHICH    JOHN    MARSHALL    WAS    A 

GRADUATE       .......  99 

CHEW  COAT-OF-ARMS      ......  105 

PORTRAIT  OF  CHIEF-JUSTICE  BENJAMIN  CHEW       .  109 
From  the  original  painting  in  the  National  Museum  ^ 
Philadelphia. 

PORTRAIT  OF  "  PEGGY  "  CHEW        .         .         .         .117 

Reproduced  with  permission   of  iJie   Century    Company 
from  the  Century  Magazine. 

PORTRAIT  OF  COLONEL  JOHN  EAGER  HOWARD      .  123 

From  a  painting  bv  Chester  Harding. 

CLIVEDEN         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .127 

CHEW  COACH           .......  130 

THE    MORRIS    HOUSE,    GERMANTOWX    (PHILA 
DELPHIA).         .......  133 

"  THE  COZIEST  OF  THE  SUITE  "       ....  138 

WASHINGTON'S  HEADQUARTERS  IN  POMPTON,  N.  J.  143 

!<  THE  PLEASANT  CAMPING-GROUND  "  .         .         .  147 

SCHUYLER  COAT-OF-ARMS       .....  152 

THE  SCHUYLER  HOMESTEAD,  POMPTON,  N.  J.         .  159 

"THE  LONG,  Low,  HIP-ROOFED  HOUSE"      .         .  167 

VAN  CORTLANDT  COAT-OF-ARMS    .  .  .  .171 

VAN  CORTLANDT  MANOR-HOUSE  .         .         .         .185 

LOOP-HOLE  AND  BRANT'S  PORTRAIT  IN  DINING- 
ROOM        ........  189 

FIREPLACE  IN  LIBRARY  ......  193 

THE  "  GHOST-ROOM  " 197 

LIVINGSTON  COAT-OF-ARMS 201 

PORTRAIT  OF  ROBERT   LIVINGSTON,  FIRST  LORD 

OF  LIVINGSTON  MANOR    .....  205 


Illustrations  xi 


PORTRAIT    OF    GERTRUDE    SCHUYLER     (SECOND 

WIFE  OF  ROBERT  LIVINGSTON)      .         .         .  209 
ROBERT  LIVINGSTON'S  CREST          .         .         .         .215 

PORTRAIT  OF  PHILIP  LIVINGSTON  (SECOND  LORD 

OF  THE  MANOR)        ......  217 

PORTRAIT  OF  JOHN  LIVINGSTON  (LAST  LORD  OF 

THE  MANOR) 223 

OAK  HILL  (ON  THE  LIVINGSTON  MANOR)       .         .231 

THE"OLDKAUS" 235 

PHILIPSE  COAT-OF-ARMS  ...  .  243 
PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE  (YONKERS,  N.  Y.)  .  -251 
FIREPLACE  IN  THE  "  WASHINGTON  CHAMBER  "  OF 

PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE          ....  259 
MANTEL  AND  SECTION  OF  CEILING  IN  DRAWING- 
ROOM  OF  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE  .         .         .  263 
MANTEL  AND  MIRROR  OF   SECOND-STORY-FRONT 

ROOM  i NT  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE  .         .         .  269 

MEMORIAL  TABLET  IN  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE     .  273 

ROGER  MORRIS  COAT-OF-ARMS       ....  276 

PORTRAIT  OF  ROGER  MORRIS          ....  280 
PORTRAIT    OF    HENRY    GAGE    MORRIS,    REAR- 
ADMIRAL   IN    THE    BRITISH    NAVY    (SON    OF 

ROGER  AND  MARY  MORRIS)  ....  283 
PORTRAIT  OF  MARY  (PHILIPSE)  MORRIS  (AT  THE 

AGE  OF  95) 285 

PORTRAIT  OF  AARON  BURR 297 

THE  JUMEL  MANSION      ....                 .  309 

PORTRAIT  OF  MADAME  JUMEL        ....  324 

From  the  original  painting  by  Alcide  Rrcole. 

SMITH  CREST  ........  327 

PORTRAIT  OF  JOHN  COTTON  SMITH         .         .         .  333 

SMITH  HOMESTEAD  AT  SHARON,  CONNECTICUT      .  337 


xii  Illustrations 


CORNER  OF  LIBRARY  IN  SMITH  HOMESTEAD  .  .341 

PIERCE  CREST 346 

PIERCE  HOMESTEAD,  DORCHESTER,  MASS.  (BuiL 

IN  1640)    ........  349 

NINE-DOORED  PARLOR  IN  PIERCE  HOMESTEAD  .  359 

''THE  MIDDLE  PARLOR  " 363 

"  THE  RIPEST  BREAD  IN  AMERICA  "        .         .         .  367 

"THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  EVENING  "   .         .         .  371 

WILLIAMS  CREST     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  376 

DOOR  FROM  SHELDON  HOUSE,  HACKED  BY  INDIANS  389 
GRAVES  OF  PARSON  WILLIAMS  AND  EUNICE,  HIS 

WIFE.     (THE  TOMB  ON  THE  RIGHT  is  THAT  OF 

MRS.  WILLIAMS) 399 

OLD  WILLIAMS  CHURCH  AND  PARSONAGE  .  .  405 
CEDAR  CHINA-CLOSET  FROM  "  PARSON  WILLIAMS" 

HOUSE      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .411 

"PARSON  WILLIAMS"  HOUSE  IN  DEERFIELD,  MASS.  423 
CHAMPNEY  HOUSE  AND  STUDIO       .         .         .         -4-7 

JOHN  SMITH'S  COAT-OF-ARMS          ....  432 

PORTRAIT  OF  CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH  .  .  .  437 
TOWER  OF  OLD  CHURCH,  JAMESTOWN,  VIRGINIA, 

IN  WHICH  POCAHONTAS  WAS  MARRIED    .         -457 

PORTRAIT  OF  POCAHONTAS     .....  463 

GRAVE  OF  POWHATAN,  ON  JAMES  RIVER         .         .  470 

"OLD  POWDER-HORN"  ......  481 

PORTRAIT  OF  MARY  CARY,  WASHINGTON'S  FIRST 

LOVE 487 

INTERIOR  OF  BRUTON  PARISH  CHURCH,  WILLIAMS 

BURG,  VA.         .......  491 

PORTRAIT  OF  JOHN  RANDOLPH  OF  ROANOKE  (AT 

THE  AGE  OF  30)        ......  495 

From  original  portrait  by  Gilbert  Stuart. 


SOME  COLONIAL  HOMESTEADS 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 
and  their  Stories 


BRANDON— LOWER  AND  UPPER 

CNGLISH  civilization,  of  which  the  first 
*— '  shoot  was  set  in  Virginia  at  Jamestown 
in  1607,  followed  the  course  of  the  James,— 
formerly  the  Powhatan  River — to  the  head  of 
navigation  at  Richmond  with  marvellous  ra 
pidity  when  one  considers  the  age  and  the  ob 
stacles  encountered  by  the  settlers.  So  fondly 
did  it  cling  to  the  banks  of  the  goodly  stream 
that  grants  of  estates  with  this  water-front, 
and  including  the  fertile  meadows  and  prim 
eval  forests  rolling  back  for  miles  inland,  were 
in  eager  request  until  there  were  none  left  in 
the  gift  of  the  Crown.  The  local  attachments 


2          Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

of  the  colonists  in  this  favored  region,  who 
called  their  lands  after  their  own  names,  would 
seem  to  have  been  transmitted  with  homes  and 
plantations.  Generation  has  succeeded  gene 
ration  of  what  is  known  in  the  mother-coun 
try  as  "  landed  gentry,"  estates  passing  from 
father  to  son,  or — failing  male  issue — to 
daughters  and  nieces,  until  the  names  and 
styles  of  the  Randolphs  of  Tuckahoe  and 
Presque  Isle,  the  Byrds  of  Westover,  the  Har 
risons  of  Berkeley  and  Brandon,  the  Carters 
of  Shirley,  came  to  have  the  significance  of 
baronial  titles,  and  were  woven  inextricably 
into  the  checquered  romance  we  call  The  His 
tory  of  Virginia. 

LOWER  BRANDON — named  in  affectionate 
memory  of  Brandon,  England — is  situated  on 
the  left  bank  of  the  James  as  one  sails  up  the 
river  from  Norfolk,  and  is  distant  about  ninety 
miles  from  Richmond.  The  original  grant 
was  made  to  John  Martin.  "  Martin's  Bran 
don  "  is  still  the  title  of  the  old  church  in  which 
are  used  chalice  and  paten  presented  by  Major 
John  Westhrope.  The  tomb  of  Elizabeth 
Westhrope,  near  by,  bears  the  date  of  1649. 
The  font  is  lettered,  "  Martin's  Brandon 
Parish,  1731." 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper          5 

The  Brandon  plantation  passed  from  John 
Martin's  possession  to  the  estate  of  Lady 
Frances  Ingleby,  and  a  deed  from  her  con 
veyed  it  in  turn  to  Nathaniel  Harrison  of  Sur 
rey  Co.,  Virginia.  His  name  appears  in  the 
Westover  MSS.  (to  which  we  shall  presently 
refer  further)  in  conjunction  with  those  of 
"  His  Excellency  Alexr.  Spotswood,  Governor 
of  Virga"  and  "  Colo.  William  Robinson,  a 
Member  of  the  House  of  Burgs  of  Virga." 
The  three  were  deputed  to  conduct  negotia 
tions  with  the  Five  Nations,  September  1722. 
Colonel  Harrison  is  therein  styled,  "  a  Member 
of  His  Majestie's  Council  of  Virga." 

The  southeast  and  older  wing  of  the  manor- 
house  was  built  by  him  about  1/12;  a  few 
years  later  he  erected  the  northwest  wing. 
These,  with  the  main  dwelling,  are  of  dark 
red  brick,  imported  from  England.  Benjamin 
Harrison,  his  son  and  heir,  was  a  room-mate 
of  Thomas  Jefferson  at  William  and  Mary 
College,  \Villiamsburg.  The  intimacy  was 
continued  in  later  years,  and  after  Mr.  Jeffer 
son's  return  from  France  he  planned  the 
square  central  building  of  his  friend's  resi 
dence.  One  suspects  that  the  proprietor's 
taste  may  have  modified  his  accomplished 


6          Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

associate's  designs,  when  we  compare  the   in 
convenient  incongruities  of  Monticello  with  the 

solid,  sensible  structure 
before  us.  The  one  ec 
centricity  is  the  orna 
ment  on  the  peak  of 
the  roof — a  white  coni 
cal  cap,  set  about  with 
drooping  pennate  leaves. 
It  may  be  a  pine-apple 
^  ,  or  a  pointed  variety  of 
Dutch  cabbage. 

The  house  was  com 
ely  modern  wr 
Benedict  Arnold  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
James,  striking  right  and  left  with  the  mad 
zeal  of  a  newly  fledged  pervert.  He  landed 
at  Brandon,  destroyed  crops,  stock,  poultry, 
and  fences,  allowed  his  men  to  use  cows  as 
targets,  and  was  guilty  of  other  fantastic  atro 
cities,  the  traditions  of  which  are  preserved  by 
those  who  had  them  from  the  lips  of  eyewit 
nesses.  At  a  subsequent  date  of  the  Revolu 
tion  a  body  of  English  troops  under  General 
Phillips  bivouacked  here  en  roicte  for  Peters 
burg,  at  which  place  he  died.  His  remains  lie 
in  Blandford  Cemetery. 


HARR.SON  COAT-OF-ARMS.  hen 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper          7 

Various  modest  freeholds  purchased  from 
small  farmers  in  the  neighborhood,  were  added 
by  Nathaniel  Harrison  to  the  original  Martin 
grant,  until  the  plantation  was  one  of  the  larg 
est  and  most  valuable  on  the  James.  Yellow 
jasmine,  periwinkle,  and  the  hardy  bulbs 
known  to  our  grandmothers  as  "  butter-and- 
eggs,"  are  still  found  in  places  where  no  house 
has  stood  for  a  century,  brave  leal  mementoes 
of  cottage  and  farmstead  levelled  to  make  way 
for  the  growth  of  the  mighty  estate. 

Children  were  born,  grew  up,  and  died  in  the 
shadow  of  the  spreading  roofs  ;  accomplished 
men  of  the  race  stood  before  counsellors  and 
kings,  served  State  and  nation,  and  left  the 
legacy  of  an  unsullied  name  to  those  who 
came  after  them.  Women,  fair  and  virtuous, 
presided  over  a  home  the  hospitality  of  which 
was  noteworthy  in  a  State  renowned  for  good 
cheer  and  social  graces.  Presidents  and  their 
cabinets  ;  eminent  statesmen  of  this  country ; 
men  and  women  of  rank  from  abroad  ;  neigh 
bors,  friends,  and  strangers  found  a  royal  wel 
come  in  the  fine  old  Virginia  house.  The 
rich  lands,  tilled  by  laborers  whose  grand 
fathers  had  occupied  the  comfortable  "  quar 
ters  "  for  which  Brandon  was  celebrated, 


8          Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

produced  harvests  that  added  yearly  to  the 
master's  wealth.  A  neat  hospital  for  the  sick 
and  infirm,  the  services  of  a  regular  physician, 
the  ministry  of  a  salaried  chaplain  and,  most 
of  all,  the  parental  care  of  the  owners,  made 
of  the  family  and  farm-servants  a  contented 
and  happy  peasantry.  It  was  a  golden  age 
of  feudalism  upon  which  the  cyclone  of  an 
other  war  swooped  with  deadlier  effects  than 
when  Arnold  directed  the  destructive  forces. 

In  1863,  Mrs.  Isabella  Harrison,  the  widow 
of  Mr.  George  Evelyn  Harrison,  late  propri 
etor  of  Brandon,  was  warned  by  sagacious  ad 
visers  that  it  would  be  prudent  to  remove  her 
family,  with  such  valuables  as  were  portable, 
to  Richmond.  Reluctant  to  leave  home  and 
dependants,  she  delayed  until  danger  of  inva 
sion  was  imminent  before  she  took  a  house  in 
town  and  filled  it  with  furniture,  pictures  and 
other  effects  sent  up  the  river  from  the  planta 
tion.  There  were  left  behind  her  brother,  Dr. 
Ritchie, — a  son  of  the  famous  "  Nestor  of  the 
Virginia  Press,"  Thomas  Ritchie  of  The  En 
quirer, — two  white  managers,  and  150  negroes, 
—field-hands  and  their  families, — the  house- 
servants  having  accompanied  the  ladies  to 
Richmond. 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper         9 

At  one  o'clock,  one  January  morning  in 
[864,  Dr.  Ritchie  was  awakened  by  a  knock 
ing  at  the  door,  and  answering  from  a  win 
dow  was  told  that  the  visitors  were  Federal 
officers.  Hastily  arraying  himself  in  an  old 
pair  of  hunting-trousers,  the  first  he  could  lay 
his  hands  upon,  with  dressing-gown  and  slip 
pers,  he  admitted  the  unseasonable  arrivals. 
They  were  respectful,  but  peremptory  in  their 
assertion  that  he  must  go  with  them  immedi 
ately  to  the  gunboat  moored  at  the  wharf. 
That  he  was  a  non-combatant,  and  simply  act 
ing  here  as  the  custodian  of  his  widowed  sis 
ter's  property  ;  that  he  was  far  from  well  and 
not  in  suitable  garb  to  meet  strangers,  availed 
nothing  to  men  acting  under  orders.  He  and 
the  two  managers  were  hurried  down  to  the 
vessel,  and  from  the  deck  saw  the  flames  of 
burning  ''quarters,"  barns,  hayricks,  out 
houses,  2500  barrels  of  corn  and  30,000  Ibs. 
of  bacon,  rolling  up  against  the  black  heav 
ens.  The  negroes  were  routed  from  their 
cabins,  the  women  wailing,  the  men  paralyzed 
with  terror — all  alike  persuaded  that  the  Day 
of  Judgment  had  come — and  forced  on  board 
the  transports.  In  the  raw  cold  of  the  winter 
morning  they  were  taken  down  to  Taylor's 


io        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Farm,  near  Norfolk.  The  younger  men  were 
enlisted  in  the  army,  the  older  men  and  women 
were  set  to  work  on  the  farm.  Most  of  them 
returned  to  Brandon  at  the  close  of  the  war. 

Dr.  Ritchie  and  his  companions  were  con 
fined  in  a  cell  at  Fort  Monroe  with  several 
negroes,  until  the  news  of  his  arrest  reached 
General  Butler,  who  gave  him  pleasanter 
quarters  and  offered  him  many  civilities. 

"  I  ask  only  for  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  en 
velope,  that  I  may  write  to  my  sister,"  was 
Dr.  Ritchie's  reply  to  these  overtures. 

A  Baltimore  paper  printed  next  day  a  sen 
sational  account  of  the  Attack  upon  Brandon, 
heading  it  A  Bloodless  Victory.  It  was  the 
intention  of  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  expe 
dition,  the  report  further  stated,  to  return  and 
complete  the  work  of  demolition. 

This  article  was  read  that  morning  by  Mrs. 
Stone,  Mrs.  Harrison's  sister,  in  Washington, 
whose  husband,  a  distinguished  physician,  was 
Mr.  Lincoln's  medical  adviser  and  friend. 
Newspaper  in  hand,  Dr.  Stone  hastened  to 
the  President,  and  laid  the  case  before  him. 
The  name  and  fame  of  Thomas  Ritchie,  the 
wheel-horse  of  the  Old  Democratic  Party, 
were  known  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  with  whom 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        1 1 

humanity  always  stood  ready  to  temper 
justice. 

"That,  at  least,  they  shall  not  do?"  he 
said,  on  reading  the  threat  of  a  return  to 
Brandon,  and  instantly  telegraphed  orders  to 
Fort  Monroe  to  that  effect. 

Mrs.  Harrison  and  her  sister,  Miss  Ritchie, 
had  been  deterred  by  the  unfavorable  aspect 
of  the  weather  from  coming  down  the  river 
on  the  very  night  of  the  attack,  as  they  had 
planned  to  do,  and  thus  escaped  the  worst 
terrors  of  the  scene.  Arriving  two  days  later, 
they  found  that  the  troops  had  been  with 
drawn,  pursuant  to  the  President's  command. 
They  had  made  the  most  of  their  brief  season 
of  occupation.  Not  a  habitable  building  was 
left  standing  except  the  manor-house,  and  that 
had  been  rifled  of  all  the  mistress  left  in  it. 
The  few  pictures  which  were  too  bulky  to 
be  removed  to  town,  had  been  cut  from  the 
frames  and  carried  off.  Some  family  portraits 
are  still  missing — the  sadly  significant  note, 
Taken  by  the  enemy  in  1864,  recording  their 
loss  in  the  catalogue  of  the  Brandon  Gallery. 
Every  window  pane  was  shattered.  Those 
inscribed  with  the  autographs  of  J.  K.  Pauld- 
ing,  John  Tyler,  Millard  Fillmore  and  his 


12         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Cabinet  secretaries,  Edward  Everett,  etc., 
etc.,  were  not  spared.  The  wainscoting  was 
ripped  from  the  inner  walls ;  the  outer  shut 
ters  were  riddled  and  hacked  and,  in  aiming 
at  the  quaint,  nondescript  ornament  on  the 
roof,  the  marksmen  had  battered  bricks  and 
cement  into  holes  that  remain  until  this  day. 

Comment  is  superfluous  on  this,  the  darkest 
page  in  the  annals  of  a  house  that  should  be 
the  pride  of  intelligent  civilization. 

"  War  is  war,  "  says  our  own  brave  Sher 
man,  "and  we  cannot  define  it.  War  is  cruel, 
and  we  cannot  refine  it."  Upon  those  whose 
political  rancor  and  greed  brought  on  the  frat 
ricidal  strife,  let  the  odium  rest  of  these  and 
other  calamities  which  a  united  people  is  anx 
ious  to  forget. 

With  a  sigh  of  grateful  relief  I  turn  to  Bran 
don  as  I  saw  it  on  a  mid-May  day  when  the 
story  of  the  invasion  was  thirty  years  old. 
Lawn  and  garden  separated  the  mansion  from 
the  river.  Trees,  lopped  and  shivered  by  bul 
lets  and  scorched  by  fire,  were  swathed  with 
ivy ;  honeysuckles  rioted  in  tropical  luxuri 
ance  over  bole  and  bough,  and  were  pruned 
daily  lest  they  should  strangle  rose-trees  that 
were  full  of  buds.  The  yellow  jasmine,  most 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        13 

odorous  of  its  tribe,  leaped  to  the  top  of  the 
tallest  trees  and  cast  abroad  streamers  laden 
with  bloom  ;  faint  purple  clusters  of  wistaria 
hung  from  wall  and  trellis  and  branch ;  a 
golden  chain  of  cowslips  bordered  the  walks  ; 
glowing  patches  of  tulips  nodded  saucy  heads 
in  the  river  breeze  that  drank  the  dew  from 
their  cups.  A  great  pecan-tree,  the  planting 
of  which,  almost  a  hundred  years  ago,  was  for 
mally  recorded  in  the  Plantation  Year-book, 
towered  on  one  side  of  the  lawn,  and  in  its 
shadow  bloomed  a  bed  of  royal  purple  iris,  the 
roots  of  which  were  brought  from  Washing 
ton's  birthplace. 

Every  square  has  its  story ;  alley  and  plot, 
tree  and  shrub,  are  beaded  with  hallowed  asso 
ciations  as  the  lush  grasses  were  strung  with 
dew-pearls  on  that  sweet-scented  May  morning. 

Standing  on  the  river-bank  facing  the  house, 
the  double-leaved  doors  of  which  were  open, 
front  and  back,  we  saw  it  framed  in  a  vista  of 
verdure,  and  looking  through  and  beyond  the 
central  hall  caught  glimpses  of  sward  that  was 
a  field  of  cloth-of-gold  with  buttercups  ;  masses 
of  spring  foliage,  tenderly  green,  mingled  with 
wide  white-tented  dogwood,  transplanted  into 
a  "  pleasaunce,"  which  is  cleft  by  the  same 


14        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

vista  running  on  unbroken  for  three  miles  until 
the  lines,  converging  with  distance,  are  lost  in 
the  forest.  There  are  seven  thousand  acres 
in  the  estate  as  at  present  bounded,  eighteen 
hundred  of  which  are  in  admirable  cultivation, 
under  the  skilful  management  of  Major  Mann 
Page,  Mrs.  Harrison's  near  relative,  who  has 
been  a  member  of  her  household  for  thirty 
years.  Except  for  the  dents  of  bullets  in  the 
stanch  walls,  the  exterior  tells  nothing  of  the 
fiery  blast  and  rain  that  nearly  wrought  ruin 
to  the  whole  edifice.  Out-buildings  and  en 
closures  have  been  renewed,  peace  and  prom 
ise  of  plenty  rejoice  on  every  side. 

The  house  has  a  frontage  of  210  feet,  the 
wings  being  joined  by  covered  corridors  to 
the  main  building,  projected  by  the  architec 
tural  President.  The  corridors  are  a  single 
story  in  height,  the  rest  of  the  structure  is 
two-storied.  Broad  porches,  back  and  front, 
give  entrance  to  the  hall,  which  is  large  and 
lightsome,  well  furnished  with  bookshelves, 
tables  and  chairs,  and  hung  with  pictures,  a 
favorite  lounging-place,  winter  and  summer, 
with  inmates  and  guests.  Like  all  the  old 
mansions  on  the  James,  Brandon  is  double- 
fronted.  The  carriage-drive  leads  up  to  what 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        15 

would  be  called  the  backdoor ;  the  other  main 
entrance  faces  the  river.  To  the  right,  as  we 
enter  the  hall  from  the  "  pleasaunce "  and 
drive,  is  the  dining-room.  Buffets,  filled  with 
old  family-plate,  handsome  and  curious,  stand 
on  either  side  ;  the  vases  on  the  mantel  were 
used  at  the  Lafayette  banquet  at  Rich 
mond  in  1824;  on  the  wall  are  valuable 
portraits. 

Conspicuous  among  these  last  is  one  of 
Daniel  Parke,  who  in  the  campaign  in  Flan 
ders,  1 704,  was  aide-de-camp  to  the  Duke  of 
Marlborouorh.  He  is  named  in  the  Duke's  des- 

o 

patch  to  Queen  Anne  announcing  the  victory 
of  Blenheim,  as  "  the  bearer,  Col.  Parke,  who 
will  give  her  an  account  of  what  has  passed." 
After  receiving  gracious  audience  from  the 
Queen,  he  made  so  bold  as  to  ask  that  her 
portrait  might  be  given  to  him  instead  of  the 
customary  bonus  of  five  hundred  pounds.  It 
was  sent  to  him  set  in  diamonds.  He  was 
appointed  Governor-General  of  the  Leeward 
Islands  (W.  I.)  in  1706,  and  was  received  with 
marked  favor  by  the  inhabitants  on  his  arrival 
at  Antigua.  His  popularity  was,  however, 
short-lived.  In  1710,  a  mob,  excited  to  frenzy 
by  irregularities  in  his  administration,  and  his 


1 6        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

cruel,  arrogant  temper,  surrounded  the  Govern 
ment  House,  and  he  was  killed  in  the  tumult. 
His  daughter  was  the  first  wife  of  Colonel 
William  Evelyn  Byrd  of  Westover,  and  the  an 
cestress  of  a  long  line  of  prominent  Virginians, 
whose  employment  of  the  patronymic  "  Parke  " 
as  a  Christian  name,  indicates  their  descent. 

The  painting,  a  fine  one,  gives  us  a  three- 
quarter  length  likeness  of  a  man  in  superb 
court  costume,  standing,  hand  on  hip,  by  a 
table  on  which  are  heaped  several  rich  medals 
and  chains.  He  wears  the  Queen's  miniature, 
surrounded  with  brilliants  ;  the  figure  is  sol 
dierly,  the  face  is  haughty,  and  would  be  hand 
some  but  for  a  lurking,  sinister  devil  in  the 
dark  eyes  that  partially  exculpates  the  popu 
lace  in  his  violent  taking  off. 

The  door  of  the  drawing-room  is  opposite 
that  of  the  dining-parlor,  the  hall  lying  be 
tween.  Both  apartments  have  the  full  depth 
of  the  house,  and  are  peopled  to  the  thought 
ful  guests  with  visions  from  a  Past  beside 
which  our  busy  To-day  seems  tame  and  jejune 
enough. 

General  William  Henry  Harrison,  President, 
for  one  little  month,  of  these  United  States, 
spent  his  Sundays  at  Brandon  while  a  school* 


COLONEL  DANIEL  PARKE. 

FROM    A    PAINTING    BY   SIR    GODFREY    KNELLER. 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        19 

boy  in  the  neighborhood.  Fillmore  laughed 
with  his  Cabinet  here  over  the  memorial  of  his 
farmer-boyhood  set  up  that  day  in  the  harvest- 
field,  a  wheat-sheaf  bound  dexterously  by  the 
hands  of  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  nation, 
and  long  preserved  on  the  plantation. 

Another  incident  connected  with  Mr.  Fill- 
more's  visit  to  Brandon  pleasingly  illustrates 
the  oneness  of  interest  that  existed  between 
employers  and  family  servants.  George,  the 
Brandon  cook,  was  a  fine  specimen  of  his 
class.  A  master  of  his  craft,  stately  in  manner 
and  speech,  he  suffered  no  undue  humility  to 
cloud  his  consciousness  of  his  abilities.  A 
family  festival  in  honor  of  a  clan  anniversary 
had  filled  the  old  house  with  guests  for  several 
days,  and  tested  the  abundant  larder  to  what 
seemed  to  be  its  utmost  possibilities.  On  the 
very  day  that  saw  the  departure  of  the  com 
pany,  a  communication  was  received  by  Mrs. 
Harrison  informing  her  that  the  Presidential 
party  might  be  expected  on  the  morrow.  She 
summoned  George  and  imparted  the  startling 
news. 

He  met  it  like  an  ebony  Gibraltar, 
u  Very  well,    madam,  your  orders   shall   be 
obeyed." 


20        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  But,  George  !  can  we  be  ready  for  them  ? 
There  will  be  about  thirty  persons,  including 
the  President  of  the  United  States  and  his 
Cabinet." 

Gibraltar  relaxed  measurably.  The  lady's 
apprehensions  appealed  to  his  chivalric  heart. 
It  was  his  duty  to  allay  them. 

"  Very  true,  madam.  But  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  we  are  greatly  blessed  in  our  cook." 

The  dignity,  conceit,  and  periphrastic  mod 
esty  of  the  rejoinder  put  it  upon  the  family 
records  at  once.  It  is  hardly  worth  our  while 
to  add  that  he  nobly  sustained  the  sublime 
vaunt.  Aladdin's  banquet  was  not  more  deftly 
produced,  and  could  not  have  given  greater 
satisfaction  to  the  partakers  thereof. 

The  present  chef  at  Brandon  is  a  grandson 
of  this  Napoleon. 

Hither,  William  Foushee  Ritchie,  his  father's 
successor  in  the  proprietorship  and  conduct  of 
The  Enquirer,  brought  the  beautiful  woman 
known  to  the  public  as  Anna  Cora  Mowatt, 
who  left  the  profession  in  which  she  had  won 
laurels  in  two  hemispheres,  for  the  love  of  this 
honorable  gentleman  and  a  happy  life  in  their 
Richmond  cottage.  Brandon  was  a  loved  re 
sort  with  his  wife.  A  portrait,  which,  although 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        23 

a  tolerable  likeness,  conveys  to  one  who  never 
saw  her  an  inadequate  idea  of  her  pure,  ele 
vated  loveliness,  is  here  ;  an  exquisite  statuette 
of  Resignation,  that  once  adorned  her  cottage 
parlor,  is  on  the  mantel. 

She  has  passed  out  of  sight,  and  her  noble 
husband,  and  the  gallant  procession  of  such  as 
the  world  delighted  to  honor  that  talked,  and 
thought,  and  lived  in  this  stately  chamber. 
From  tarnished  frames  impassive  faces  looked 
down  on  us  as  once  on  them,  changing  not  for 
their  mirth  or  for  our  sighing.  The  silver 
mirror  is  brought  out  and  turned  for  us,  that 
once  flashed  a  sheet  of  li^ht  for  this  vanished 

o 

company  upon  portrait  after  portrait. 

Upon  the  sweet,  pensive  face  of  Elizabeth 
Claypole,  registered  in  the  catalogue  as  "  Lady 
Betty  Cromwell," — only  daughter  of  the  Pro 
tector.  Her  sitting  attitude  is  languidly  grace 
ful  ;  her  head  is  supported  by  a  slim  hand,  her 
arm  on  a  table.  Her  gown  is  of  a  dim  blue, 
with  flowing  sleeves,  and  modestly  decollete. 

Upon  Jeanie  Deans's  Duke  of  Argyle,  whose 
mailed  corslet,  partially  visible  under  his  coat, 
hints  of  the  troublous  times  in  which  he  lived. 

Upon  the  courtly  form  and  regular  features 
of  the  second  Colonel  Byrd  of  Westover,  hang- 


24        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ing  next  to  his  daughter,  "  The  Fair  Evelyn/' 
whose  dramatic  story  has  place  in  the  chronicles 
of  Westover. 

Upon  the  owl-like  eyes,  long  locks  and  be 
nign  expression  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  benig 
nity  so  premeditate  and  measured  that  the 
irreverent  beholder  is  reminded  of  the  patri 
archal  Casby  of  Little  Dorrit.  The  portrait 
.was  taken  while  he  was  envoy  to  France  and 
presented  by  him  to  the  then  master  of  Brandon. 

Upon  Charles  Montague,  Earl  of  Halifax, 
date  of  1 66 1,  and  Sir  Robert  Southwell  of  the 
same  year,  boon-companions  of  Colonel  Byrd 
during  his  sojourn  in  England. 

Upon  Benjamin  West's  portrait  of  Colonel 
Alston  of  South  Carolina. 

Upon  the  dark  intellectual  face  of  Benjamin 
Harrison,  who  married  Miss  Evelyn  Byrd  of 
Westover,  niece  of  the  Fair  Evelyn  ;  and  a 
half-score  of  other  pictured  notabilia,  at  the 
hearing  of  whose  names  we  look  suddenly  and 
keenly  at  their  presentments. 

Mister  Walthoe,  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Burgesses,  was  painted  in  his  broad-brimmed 
hat. 

"  Set  me  among  your  dukes  and  earls  with 
my  hat  on  my  head,  to  signify  that  I  am  a 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        25 

true  Republican  who  will  uncover  to  none  of 
them,  and  I  will  give  you  the  finest  diamond 
ring  to  be  bought  in  America,"  he  proposed 
to  Colonel  Byrcl. 

"  Agreed  !  "  said  the  witty  landholder,  "  and 
I  will  hang  it  over  the  door  to  show  that  you 

are  taking  leave  of  them." 
& 

The  stubborn,  rubicund  face,  surmounted  by 
the  Republican  chapeau,  hangs  yet  above  a 
door  in  the  dining-room.  The  central  diamond 
of  the  cluster  that  paid  for  the  privilege  of  the 
protest,  was  worn  until  her  death  by  Miss 
Harrison,  only  daughter  of  the  venerated 
chatelaine  who  shines  with  chastened  lustre, 
the  very  pearl  of  gracious  womanhood,  in  the 
antique  setting  of  Brandon. 

The  Westover  MS.  is  a  larcre  folio  bound 

o 

in  parchment,  copied  in  a  clear,  clerkly  hand 
from  the  notes  of  Colonel  Byrd  of  Westover, 
the  chiefest  of  the  three  who  bore  the  name 
and  title.  The  first  part  is  entitled  :  History 
of  the  Dividing  Line,  and  Other  Tracts.  From 
the  papers  of  William  Byrd  of  Westover  in 
Virginia,  Esq. 

It  is  the  report  of  an  expedition  of  survey 
ors  and  gentlemen  who  ran  the  Dividing  Line 
between  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  in  1728- 


26        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

29,  and  is  full  of  delightful  reading,  not  only 
because  of  the  pictures  it  gives  of  men  and 
times  in  the  author's  day,  but  in  the  racy 
humor  of  the  narrative.  The  second  part  has 
the  caption  :  A  Journey  to  the  Land  of  Eden, 
and  other  Tracts,  Anno  1733.  A  third  paper, 
A  Progress  to  the  Mines,  In  the  Year  1732,  is 
perhaps  the  most  entertaining  of  all. 

It  begins,  Sept.  18,  1732,  after  this  wise  : 

"  For  the  Pleasure  of  the  good  Company  of 
Mrs.  Byrd,  and  her  little  Governor  my  Son,  I 
went  about  half-way  to  the  Falls  in  the  Chariot. 
There  we  halted,  not  far  from  a  purling 
Stream,  and  upon  the  Stump  of  a  propagate 
Oak,  picket  the  Bones  of  a  piece  of  Roast 
Beef.  By  the  Spirit  which  that  gave  me,  I 
was  the  better  able  to  part  with  the  dear  Com 
panions  of  my  Travels,  and  to  perform  the  rest 
of  my  Journey  on  Horseback  by  myself.  I 
reached  Shaccoa's  before  2  o'clock  and  crost 
the  River  to  the  Mills.  I  had  the  Grief  to  find 
them  both  stand  as  still  for  the  want  of  Water, 
as  a  dead  Woman's  Tongue  for  want  of 
Breath." 

These  manuscripts  were  presented  by  the 
author's  daughter-in-law  to  "  George  Evcly 


VJl 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        27 

Harrison,  the  son  of  her  daughter,  Evelyn  Byrd, 
who  had  married  Mr.  Benjamin  Harrison  of 
Brandon!'  They  were  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Thomas  Wynne,  a  Richmond  printer,  at  the 
time  of  the  evacuation  of  that  city.  For  some 
time  after  the  fire  which  burned  up  the  print 
ing  offices,  Mrs.  Harrison  feared  they  had 
been  destroyed.  They  were  found  in  Mr. 
Wynne's  safe,  unharmed,  when  it  was  cool 
enough  to  be  opened. 

Upper  Brandon,  originally  included  in  the 
Brandon  tract,  now  adjoins  that  which  is  called 
in  contradistinction,  "  Lower  Brandon,"  the 
road  thither  winding  through  teeming  fields 
and  belts  of  forest-lands,  and  often  along  the 
river-edge.  The  house,  a  fine  brick  building, 
was  erected  about  sixty  years  ago  by  William 
Byrd  Harrison,  and  after  his  death  was  bought 
by  Mr.  George  L.  Byrd  of  New  York  city. 
It  was  cruelly  damaged  by  Federal  troops 
during  the  Civil  \Var,  and  has  never  been  re 
stored  to  its  former  condition.  Major  Charles 
Shirley  Harrison,  who  has  the  general  manage 
ment  of  the  estate,  occupies  bachelors'  quarters 
in  the  central  building.  The  rest  of  the 

o 

spacious  mansion    echoes   mournfully    to    the 


28        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

footsteps  of  the  chance  guest ;  the  bits  of 
antique  furniture  left  here  and  there  in  the  de 
serted  rooms  make  the  eyes  of  the  would-be 
collector  glisten  with  greed  and  regret.  The 
situation  is  commanding  ;  the  grounds  still  re 
tain  traces  of  former  beauty.  A  covered  sub 
terranean  passage  connects  the  kitchen  in  the 
right  wing  with  the  empty  wine-cellar  and 
the  dining-room  above.  A  secret  staircase 
formerly  wound  from  the  vaulted  passage  to 
the  upper  chambers,  but  it  was  torn  out  by  the 
soldiers,  leaving  a  gaping  well.  The  other 
wing  was  in  the  old  times  fitted  up  as  bache 
lors'  chambers.  In  the  thought  of  the  high 
bred,  bearded  faces  that  once  looked  from  the 
windows,  the  laughter  and  jest  thrown  back 
by  the  walls  now  broken,  discolored,  and  dumb, 
the  stillness  and  desolation  of  the  closed  rooms 
bring  dreariness  and  heartache  to  the  stranger- 
visitor  ;  wring  from  the  soul  of  the  native- 
born  Virginian  a  lament  as  bitter  as  the  pro 
phet's  moan  that  the  hurt  of  the  daughter  of 
his  people  was  not  healed. 

Beyond  the  ruined  gardens  lie  woods  so  pic 
turesque  in  glade  and  greenery,  that  one 
blesses  anew  the  beneficent  ministration  of 
Nature  and  the  loving  haste  with  which,  in 


Brandon — Lower  and  Upper        31 

this  climate,  she  repairs  the  waste  made  in 
these  and  other  "  pleasant  places." 

In  the  dining-room  hang  several  good  pic 
tures, — one  a  portrait  of  Colonel  Byrd,  another, 
by  Vandyke,  of  Pope's  Martha  Blount.  She 
led  the  crook-backed  poet  a  dance  with  her 
tempers  and  caprices,  but  she  does  not  look  the 
termagant,  as  she  queens  it  in  this  dismantled 
room,  a  spaniel  at  her  feet,  a  roll  of  music  in 
her  hand,  a  harpsichord  in  the  background. 

Less  out  of  place  here  than  the  imperious 
beauty  is  a  lacquered  Chinese  cabinet,  black- 
and-gilt,  that  once  belonged  to  Anne  Boleyn. 
Syphers  would  barter  a  section  of  his  immor 
tal  soul  for  it. 

It  was  while  we  waited  in  the  porch  for  our 
carriage,  hearkening  to  the  "  sweet  jargoning  " 
of  the  bird-vespers,  that  the  pretty  anecdote 
was  told  of  Mrs.  William  Harrison's  rejoinder 
to  an  English  guest  who  asked  to  see  the 
aviary  from  which  came  the  warbling  that 
poured  into  his  windows  from  dawn  to  sunrise. 
Leading  him  to  the  backdoor,  she  opened  it, 
and  pointed  to  the  grove  beyond. 

"  It  is  there  ! "  she  answered,  merrily. 

Parting  at  the  gate  with  the  courtly  cavalier 
who  had  guided  us  through  the  lovely  bit  of 


32         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

woodland  outlying  the  grounds,  we  drove  in 
the  sunset  calm,  back  to  Lower  Brandon,  ar 
riving  just  in  season  to  dress  for  dinner. 

Of  the  tranquil  beauty  of  the  domestic  life 
within  the  ancient  walls,  I  may  not  speak  here. 
But  the  story  of  house  and  estate  belongs  to  a 
country  that  should  cherish  jealously  the  record 
of  the  few  families  and  residences  which  have 
withstood  the  wash  of  Time  and  Change,  agen 
cies  that  relegate  the  fair  fashion  of  growing 
old  gracefully  to  a  place  among  the  lost  arts. 


II 

WESTOVER 

THE  Plantation  of  Westover  finds  place  in 
the  annals  of  Colonial  History  as  early 
as  1622.  The  original  grant  was  made  to  Sir 
John  Paulet.  Theodorick  Bland  was  the  next 
•owner.  An  Englishman  by  birth,  he  was  a 
Spanish  merchant  before  he  emigrated  to  Vir 
ginia  in  1654.  He  was  one  of  the  King's  Coun 
cil  in  Virginia,  established  himself  at  Westover, 
gave  ten  acres  of  land,  a  court-house  and  a 
prison  to  Charles  City  County,  and  built  a 
church  for  the  parish  which  occupied  a  portion 
of  the  graveyard  on  his  plantation.  He  was 
buried  in  the  chancel.  A  sunken  horizontal 
slab,  bearing  his  name,  marks  the  site  of  the 
sacred  edifice. 

The  estate  came  into  prominence  under  the 
regime  of  the  Byrds.      Hening,  in  his  Statutes 

3  33 


34        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


at  Large,  spells  the  name,  Bird.  Family  tra 
dition  claims  descent  for  them  from  a  Le  Brid, 
who  entered  England  in 
the  train  of  William  the 
Conqueror,  and  it  trans 
mits  an  ancient  ballad,  be 
ginning, 

"  My  father  from  the  Norman 

shore, 
BYRD  COAT-OF-ARMS.  With  Royal  William  came." 


The  first  American  Byrcl — William — was 
born  in  London  in  1653,  and  settled  in  Vir 
ginia  as  merchant  and  planter  in  1674.  He 
bought  WTestover  from  the  Blands,  and  died 
there  in  1704.  He  held  the  office  of  Receiver- 
General  of  the  Royal  Revenues  at  the  time  of 
his  death.  His  son,  William  Evelyn  Byrd, 
succeeded  to  the  proprietorship  when  thirty 
years  of  age,  having  been  born  March  28, 
1674.  Two  years  later  he  married  a  daughter 
of  Daniel  Parke  (see  Lower  Brandon).  She 
died  in  England  of  smallpox  in  1716,  leaving 
two  daughters,  Evelyn,  who  never  married,  and 
Wilhelmina,  who  became  the  wife  of  Mr.  Wil 
liam  Chamberlayne,  of  Virginia. 


Westover  37 

Colonel  Byrd's  second  wife  was  Maria  Taylor, 
an  English  heiress,  and  with  her  he  returned 
to  his  native  land  after  a  sojourn  of  some  years 
abroad.  His  father  had  built  a  house  at  West- 
over  in  1690.  The  son  proceeded  now  to  build 
a  greater,  choosing  the  finest  natural  location 
on  James  River.  The  dwelling  of  English 
brick  consisted  of  one  large  central  house,  con 
nected  by  corridors  with  smaller  wings,  and 
was  underrun  by  cellars  that  are  models  of 
solidity  and  spaciousness.  The  sloping  lawn 
was  defended  against  the  wash  of  the  current 
by  a  river-wall  of  massive  masonry.  At  regu 
lar  intervals  buttresses,  capped  with  stone,  sup 
ported  statues  of  life  size.  Gardens,  fences, 
out-houses,  and  conservatories  were  evidences 
of  the  owner's  taste  and  means.  His  estate  is 
said  to  have  been  "  a  Principality,"  and  was 
augmented  by  his  second  wife's  large  fortune, 
which  included  valuable  landed  property  in  the 
neighborhood  of  London.  Within  his  palatial 
abode  were  collected  the  treasures  brought 
from  England  and  the  Continent.  Among  the 
pictures  were  the  portraits  now  preserved  at 
Lower  and  at  Upper  Brandon.  They  were 
removed  to  these  houses  when  Westover  passed 
out  of  the  Byrd  family. 


38         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

A  partial  list,  (taken  from  a  Westover  MS.) 
is  herewith  given  : 

"  Portrait  of  Sir  Wilfred  Lawson,  by  Sir  Godfrey 
Kneller.  One  of  a  progenitor  of  the  Byrd  family  by 
Vandyke.  Duke  of  Argyle  (Jeanie  Deans's  fricnc.  •, 
Lord  Orrery  and  Sir  Charles  Wager,  an  English  Ad 
miral  ;  Miss  Blount,  celebrated  by  Pope.  Mary,  Duch 
ess  of  Montague,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Marlboro'  and 
wife  of  John,  fourth  Duke  of  Montague.  Governor 
Daniel  Parke.  Mrs.  Lucy  Parke  Byrd  and  her  daugh 
ter  Evelyn.  Col.  Byrd  and  his  second  wife,  Miss  Taylor. 
The  daughters  of  the  second  Col.  Byrd." 

William  Evelyn,  second  of  the  "  Byrd  of 
Westover"  name  and  title,  was  the  most  emi 
nent  of  the  line. 

One  historian  says  of  him  : 

"A  vast  fortune  enabled  him  to  live  in  a  style  of 
hospitable  splendor  before  unknown  in  Virginia.  His 
extensive  learning  was  improved  by  a  keen  observation, 
and  refined  by  an  acquaintance  and  correspondence 
with  the  wits  and  noblemen  of  his  day  in  England. 
His  writings  are  amongst  the  most  valuable  that  have 
descended  from  his  era." 

Another  : 

"  He  was  one  of  the  brightest  stars  in  the  social  skies 
of  Colonial  Virginia.  All  desirable  traits  seemed  to  com 
bine  in  him  ;  personal  beauty,  elegant  manners,  literary 
culture  and  the  greatest  gayety  of  disposition.  Never 


COLONEL  WILLIAM   EVELYN   BYRD  OF  WESTOVER. 

FROM    A    PAINTING    BY    SIR    GODFREY    KNELLER. 


Westover  41 

was  there  a  livelier  companion,  and  his  wit  and  humor 
seemed  to  flow  in  an  unfailing  stream.  It  is  a  species 
of  jovial  grand  seigneur  and  easy  master  of  all  the  graces 
we  see  in  the  person  of  this  author-planter  on  the  banks 
of  James  River." 

Of  the  Westover  MSS.  described  in  our 
"  Brandon  "  paper,  the  same  writer  says  : 

"  We  may  fancy  the  worthy  planter  in  ruffles  and  pow 
der,  leaning  back  in  his  arm-chair  at  Westover,  and  dictat 
ing,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips,  the  gay  pages  to  his  secretary. 
The  smile  may  be  seen  to-day  on  the  face  of  his  portrait  : 
a  face  of  remarkable  personal  beauty,  framed  in  the 
curls  of  a  flowing  peruke  of  the  time  of  Queen  Anne.  .  . 

"  His  path  through  life  was  a  path  of  roses.  He  had 
wealth,  culture,  the  best  private  library  in  America,  social 
consideration,  and  hosts  of  friends,  and  when  he  went 
to  sleep  under  his  monument  in  the  garden  at  Westover, 
he  left  behind  him  not  only  the  reputation  of  a  good 
citizen,  but  that  of  the  great  Virginia  wit  and  author  of 
the  century." 

The  testimony  of  the  monument  is  prolix 
and  exhaustive,  forestalling,  one  might  suppose, 
the  necessity  of  any  other  post-mortem  me 
morial. 

"  Here  lieth  the  honorable  William  Byrd,  Esq.  Being 
born  to  one  of  the  amplest  fortunes  in  this  country,  he 
was  sent  early  to  England  for  his  education,  where,  under 
the  care  of  Sir  Robert  Southwell,  and  ever  favored  with  his 


42         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

particular  instructions,  he  made  a  happy  proficiency  in 
polite  and  various  learning.  By  the  means  of  the  same 
noble  friend,  he  was  introduced  to  the  acquaintance  of 
many  of  the  first  persons  of  that  age  for  knowledge,  wit, 
virtue,  birth,  or  high  station,  and  particularly  contracted  a 
most  intimate  and  bosom  friendship  with  the  learned  and 
illustrious  Charles  Boyle,  Earl  of  Orrery.  He  was  called 
to  the  bar  in  the  Middle  Temple  :  studied  for  some  time 
in  the  Low  Countries  ;  visited  the  Court  of  France,  and 
was  chosen  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society.  Thus  emi 
nently  fitted  for  the  service  and  ornament  of  his  country, 
he  was  made  receiver-general  of  his  majesty's  revenues 
here  ;  was  thrice  appointed  public  agent  to  the  court 
and  ministry  of  England  ;  and  being  thirty-seven  years 
a  member,  at  last  became  president  of  the  council  of 
this  colony.  To  all  this  were  added  a  great  elegance  of 
taste  and  life,  the  well-bred  gentleman  and  polite  com 
panion,  the  splendid  economist,  and  prudent  father  of  a 
family  ;  withal,  the  constant  enemy  of  all  exorbitant 
power,  and  hearty  friend  to  the  liberties  of  his  country. 
Nat.  Mar.  28,  1674.  Mort.  Aug.  26,  1744.  An  set  at.  70." 

A  catalogue  of  his  books  is  in  the  Franklin 
Library,  Philadelphia. 

He  also  advertised  in  The  Virginia  Gazette 
of  April  1737, 

"  that  on  the  North  Side  of  James  River,  near  the  upper 
most  Landing  and  a  little  below  the  Falls,  is  lately  laid 
off  by  Major  Mayo,  a  town  called  Richmond,  with 
Streets  sixty  feet  wide,  in  a  Pleasant  and  Healthy  Situa- 


Westover  43 

tion    and  well   supplied   with  Springs  of   Good  Water. 
It  lieth  near  the  Public  Warehouse  at  Shoccoe's,"  etc. 


In  his  journal  of  1733,  he  says 


"  We  laid  the  Foundation  of  Two  large  Cities,  one  at 
Shoccoe's  to  be  called  Richmond,  and  the  Other  at  the 
Point  of  Appomattox,  to  be  called  Petersburg." 

Truly  the  good  this  man  did  was  not  "  in 
terred  with  his  bones." 

And  yet — and  yet — ! 

The  portrait  of  his  daughter,  known  in  family 
tradition  as  "  The  Fair  Evelyn  "  (pronounced  as 
if  spelt  "  Evelyn  "),  hangs  next  to  that  of  her 
superb  parent.  The  painter  represents  Evelyn 
Byrd  as  a  beautiful  young  woman,  with  ex 
quisite  complexion  and  hands,  the  latter  busied 
in  binding  wild  flowers  about  a  shepherdess-hat. 
The  fashion  of  her  satin  gown  is  simple,  and 
becoming  to  a  slender  figure  ;  a  rose  is  set 
among  the  dark  curls  on  the  left  temple  ;  a 
scarlet  bird  is  perched  in  the  shrubbery  at  her 
right.  The  features  are  regular  ;  the  forehead 
broad,  the  hair  arching  prettily  above  it ;  the 
nose  is  straight ;  the  lips  are  rosy,  ripe,  and 
lightly  closed.  The  round  of  cheek  and  chin  is 
exquisite.  The  great  brown  eyes  are  sweet 


44        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

and  serious.  It  is  a  lovely  face — gentle,  amia 
ble  and  winning,  but  not  strong — except  in 
capacity  for  suffering. 

Her  father  took  his  children  abroad  to  be 
educated,  accompanying  them  on  the  voyage 
and  paying  them  several  visits  during  their 
pupilage.  In  due  time,  Evelyn  was  presented 
at  Court.  One  of  the  Brandon  relics  is  the 
fan  used  by  her  on  that  momentous  occasion. 
The  sticks  are  of  carved  ivory,  creamy  with 
age.  On  kid,  once  white,  now  yellow,  is 
painted  a  pastoral  scene — shepherdess  and 
swain,  pet  spaniel,  white  sheep,  green  bank, 
and  nodding  cowslips  under  a  rose-pink  sky. 
They  delighted  in  these  violent  contrasts  with 
the  gilded  artificiality  of  court-life  in  Queen 
Anne's  day.  We  hold  the  fragile  toy  with 
reverent  fingers ;  can  almost  discern  faint, 
lingering  thrills  along  the  delicately  wrought 
ivory  of  the  joyous  tumult  of  pulses  beating 
high  with  love  and  ambition. 

One  of  the  many  traditions  that  lead  the 
imagination  on  easily  to  the  reconstruction  of 
the  romantic  biography  of  William  the  Great 
of  Westover,  is  that,  when  he  presented  his 
wife,  Lucy  Parke,  at  the  court  of  his  Han 
overian  Majesty  George  I.,  her  charms  so  far 


THE  FAIR  EVELYN." 

FROM    A    PAINTING    BY    SIR   GODFREY    KNELLER. 


Westover  47 

melted  the  Dutch  phlegm  of  the  monarch  that 
he  asked  the  proud  husband  if  "  there  were 
many  other  as  beautiful  birds  in  the  forests  of 
America  ?  " 

Another  version  of  the  anecdote  puts  the 
speech  into  the  mouth  of  George  II.,  and 
makes  the  occasion  that  of  the  Fair  Evelyn's 
presentation.  All  family  annalists  agree  in  say 
ing  that  the  daughter's  London  sojourn  in  the 
year  starred  by  her  appearance  at  Court,  was 
also  made  memorable  by  her  meeting  with 
Charles  Mordaunt,  the  orrandson  of  Lord 

o 

Peterborough.  The  young  man  fell  in  love 
with  her,  and  was  loved  in  return  as  absolutely 
and  passionately  as  if  the  fan-pastoral  were  a 
sketch  from  nature,  and  the  pair  Chloe  and 
Strephon. 

Lord  Peterborough,  the  grandfather,  was  a 
shining  figure  in  the  diplomatic,  military,  and 
social  world  of  his  day,  which  was  a  long  one. 
He  outlived  his  son  and  was  succeeded  in  his 
title  and  estates  by  his  grandson  in  1/35. 
Those  of  William  Evelyn  Byrd's  biographers 
who  have  discredited  the  love  story  on  the 
ground  of  the  disparity  of  age  between  the 
friend  of  Swift,  Pope,  Arbuthnot,  and  Gay,  and 
the  lovely  American  debutante,  have  been  led 


4&        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

into  the  doubt  by  overlooking  the  genealogical 
facts  I  have  given. 

The  hapless  pair  might  have  known  better 
if  lovers  ever  know  anything  better,  than  to  fol 
low  blindly  whither  love  leads.  Whatever  the 
cynical  Earl  of  Peterborough  thought  of  the 
pretty  entanglement,  the  potentate  of  West- 
over  had  reasons  weighty,  if  not  many,  for 
taking  part  in  the  drama.  The  Peterboroughs 
were  leading  Roman  Catholics.  The  "  jovial 
grand  seigneur  and  easy  master  of  all  the 
graces  "  was  the  stanchest  of  Protestant  Church 
men.  The  polished  courtier,  smiling  at  us 
from  the  drawing-room  wall  of  Brandon  wore 
quite  another  aspect  when  he  enacted  Cymbe- 
line  to  the  plighted  twain,  and, 

"  Like  the  tyrannous  breathing  of  the  North, 
Shook  all  their  buds  from  blowing." 

The  Fair  Evelyn  was  brought  back  to  West- 
over,  with  her  secret  buried  so  deep  in  her 
heart  that  it  ate  it  out.  Ennui  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  the  low,  nervous  state 
into  which  she  fell.  Unconsciously,  she  may 
have  pined  for  London  gayeties  in  the  un 
eventful  routine  of  colonial  plantation-life. 
The  story  asserts  that  the  brown,  deep  eyes 


Westover  49 

grew  wistful  with  thoughts  of  the  lover  they 
were  never  more  to  see  ;  her  soul  sick  unto 
death  with  longing  to  be  with  him. 

"  Refusing  all  offers  from  other  gentlemen, 
she  died  of  a  broken  heart,"  is  the  simple 
record. 

We  learn,  furthermore,  that  the  author- 
planter  bore  himself  remorselessly  while  the 
cruel  decline  went  on.  If  he  did  not — to 
quote  again  from  the  play  that  must  be  among 
his  catalogued  books — bid  her, 

"  Languish 

A  drop  of  blood  a  day,  and,  being  aged, 
Die  of  this  folly,"     .     .     . 

he  stuck  fast  by  his  purpose  not  to  let  her 
wed  the  Popish  nobleman.  He  gave  no  other 
reason  for  his  tyranny  than  this  to  the  public, 
whatever  his  daughter  and  the  young  peer  who, 
some  say,  followed  her  to  America,  may  have 
known  of  other  and  yet  weightier  objections 
to  the  alliance.  There  are  rumors  that  can 
neither  be  verified,  nor  denied,  at  this  distance 
from  the  tragedy  in  real  life,  of  early  feuds 
between  the  Mordaunts  and  the  haughty 
First  Gentleman  of  Virginia,  whose  stout  ad 
herence  to  principle  or  prejudice  cost  his 
favorite  child  her  life. 


50        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

In  this  connection  occurs  another  family 
anecdote.  It  was  the  habit  of  the  Berkeley 
Harrisons  and  the  Westover  Byrds  often  to 
take  tea  together  in  the  summer  weather  in  a 
grove  on  the  dividing-line  of  the  two  planta 
tions.  Butlers  and  footmen  carried  table 
equipage  and  provisions  to  the  trysting-place, 
set  them  in  order,  and  waited  on  the  party. 
One  afternoon,  some  weeks  before  Evelyn's 
death,  as  she  and  her  dearest  friend  and  con 
fidante,  sweet  Anne  Harrison,  the  wife  of  the 
then  owner  of  Berkeley,  were  slowly  climb 
ing  the  slight  ascent  to  the  rendezvous,  the 
girl  promised  to  meet  her  companion  some 
times  on  the  way,  when  she  had  passed  out  of 
others'  sight.  Accordingly  on  a  certain  lovely 
evening  in  the  next  spring,  as  Mrs.  Harrison 
walked  lonely  and  sadly  down  the  hill,  she  saw 
her  lost  friend,  dressed  in  white  and  dazzling 
in  ethereal  loveliness,  standing  beside  her 
own  tombstone.  She  fluttered  forward  a  few 
steps,  kissed  her  hand  to  the  beholder,  smiling 
joyously  and  tenderly,  and  vanished. 

The  inscription  on  this  same  tombstone  is 
assuredly  not  the  composition  of  the  author 
of  the  Westover  MSS.  I  give  it,  verbatim  ct 
literatim,  et  punctuatim  : 


Westover 


"  Here,  in  the  sleep  of  Peace, 
Reposes  the  Body  : 
of  Mrs.  Evelyn  Byrd  : 

Daughter, 

of  the  Honorable  Byrd,  Esq: 
The  various  &  excellent 

Endowments 
of  Nature  :   Improved  and 

perfected, 

By  an  accomplished  Educa 
tion  : 

Formed  her, 
For  the    Happyness  of   her 

Friends 
For  an  ornament  of  her 

Country, 

Alas,  Reader  ! 

We  can  detain  nothing 

however  Valued 
From  unrelenting  Death  : 
Beauty,  Fortune  or  exalted 

Honour. 

See  here  a  Proof. 
And  be  reminded  by  this 

awful  Tomb  : 
That  every  worldly  Comfort 

fleets  away  : 

Excepting  only  what  arises, 
From  imitating  the  Virtues 

of  our  Friends  ; 

And  the  contemplation  of 

their  Happyness. 

To  which 
God  was  pleased  to  call  this 

Lady 

On  the  1 3th  Day  of  Novem 
ber  1737— 

In  the  29th  Year  of  Her 
Age." 


COLONEL  BYRD'S  TOMB   IN  THE  GARDEN  AT 
WESTOVER. 


52        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

On  the  right  of  Evelyn  Byrd's  tomb  is  one 
of  like  size  and  shape  which  guards  the  remains 
of  her  grandmother.  An  oddly  arranged  in 
scription,  running  sometimes  quite  around  the 
flat  top,  sometimes  across  it,  records  that  she 
was  "Mary  Byrd,  Late  Wife  of  William 
Byrd,  Esq."  (They  never  left  the  "  Esq."  off, 
however  cramped  for  room.)  "Daughter  of 
Wareham  Horsemander,  Esq.,  who  dyed  the 
qth  Day  of  November  1699  In  the  47  th  Year  of 
her  Age" 

Her  husband  lies  beside  her,  a  Latin  epitaph 
registering  the  provincial  offices  held  from  the 
Crown,  and  his  demise — "  4th  Die  Decembris 
1704  post  quarn  vicisset  52  Annas" 

His  more  distinguished  son  was  buried  under 
the  more  ambitious  monument  in  the  middle 
of  the  garden. 

The  Westover  Church  was  removed  from 
the  burying-ground  to  a  portion  of  the  estate 
called  Evelynton,  about  two  miles  away  as  the 
crow  flies.  There  is  an  ugly  story  of  an  in 
cumbent,  Rev.  John  Dunbar,  who  married  a 
daughter  of  the  third  Col.  Byrd.  He  "  openly 
renounced  the  ministry,  and  with  it  the  Chris 
tian  faith,  and  became  a  notorious  gambler." 
On  the  occasion  of  some  misunderstanding  be- 


Westover  53 

tween  Benjamin  Harrison  of  Brandon  and  Ben 
jamin  Harrison  of  Berkeley,  the  whilome  rector 
offered  to  bear  a  challenge  from  the  latter, 
and  himself  fought  a  duel  resulting  from  a 
race-course  quarrel,  in  sight  of  Old  Westover 
Church  where  he  had  formerly  officiated. 

The  third  and  last  Col.  William  Byrd  was 
born  in  1728,  succeeded  to  title  and  estate  at 
his  father's  death  in  i  744,  and  served  as  Colonel 
in  the  French  and  Indian  War.  On  August 
3,  1758,  the  Virginia  troops  at  Fort  Cumber 
land  were  two  thousand  in  number,  under  the 
command  of  Col.  George  Washington  and  Col. 
William  Byrd  of  Westover,  and  the  regiment 
of  Col.  Byrd  was  859  strong. 

His  first  wife  was  Elizabeth  Hill  Carter,  of 
whom  we  shall  hear  more  in  the  paper  on  Shir 
ley.  His  second  was  Miss  Mary  Willing,  of 
Philadelphia,  who  bore  him  eight  children. 
Three  of  them  married  into  the  Harrison 
family  ;  one  married  a  Page  of  Pagebrook  ; 
one  a  Nelson ;  a  sixth  a  Meade, — all  noted 
Virginia  names. 

William  the  Third  of  Westover,  Virginia, 
Esq.,  "  involved  himself  in  debt  while  under 
age  and  abroad.  He  kept  company  with  the 
nobility  and  gamed." 


54         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

He  laments  in  his  will  that  "  the  estate  is 
still  greatly  encumbered  with  debts  which  em 
bitter  every  moment  of  my  life."  But  several 
incidents  that  have  come  down  to  us  give  us 
pleasing  views  of  his  character.  One  is  his 
bravery  in  rescuing  his  wife's  brothers  from 
the  third-story  chamber  during  a  fire  that  par 
tially  destroyed  Westover  in  1 749.  No  one 
else  dared  rush  up  the  blazing  staircase.  Had 
the  young  men  perished  then  and  there,  the 
daily  embitterment  of  debt  would  have  been 
removed,  their  sister  being  their  next  of  kin. 

Another  anecdote  describes  Colonel  Byrd's 
liabit  of  takinof  a  walk  in  the  Westover 

o 

•grounds  every  evening  "  about  dark,"  without 
his  hat.  "  Whatever  company  might  be  in 
the  house  did  not  prevent  his  doing  so.  His 
family  knew  this  to  be  the  time  he  passed  in 
devotion." 

He  died  in  January,  1777.  His  wife's  grief 
was  excessive.  She  obstinately  refused  to 
have  him  buried  for  several  days,  finally  yield 
ing  to  the  necessity  at  the  persuasion  of  her 
neighbor,  Colonel  Harrison  of  Berkeley.  She 
was  a  woman  of  remarkable  ability,  highly 
cultivated  mind,  and  excellent  business  talents. 
Benjamin  Franklin  was  her  god-father  and 


Westover  55 

friend.  She  sold  her  husband's  library  and 
silver  to  assist  in  the  payment  of  his  debts,  and 
Avas  her  own  plantation  manager. 

When  Benedict  Arnold  landed  at  Westover, 
he  is  said  to  have  made  her  a  prisoner  in  an 
upper  chamber  ;  grazed  his  horses  in  her  har 
vest-fields  and  shot  her  cattle.  He  ravaged 
the  place  twice,  Lord  Cornwallis  once.  Never 
theless,  suspicions  of  her  loyalty  were  so 
strong  that  she  was  twice  summoned  to  Rich 
mond  to  be  tried  as  a  Tory. 

Arthur  Lee  writes  in  i  780,  that  Arnold  car 
ried  on  a  regular  correspondence  with  Mrs. 
Byrd,  until  one  of  his  vessels  happening  to  run 
aground,  her  treason  was  discovered. 

"  I  have  reason,"  he  adds,  "  to  think  she  will 
not  be  tried  at  all,  means  having  been  taken 
to  keep  the  witnesses  out  of  the  way." 

She  died  in  1814,  and  Westover  was  sold, 
passing  through  many  hands  in  the  next  half- 
•century,  remaining  longest  in  the  Selden  fam 
ily,  who  occupied  it  for  thirty  years.  During 
the  Civil  War  it  suffered  severely  in  common 
with  most  James  River  plantations.  General 
Pope  and  other  Federal  officers  used  it  in  turn 
as  headquarters  and  as  a  store-house  for  the 
Commissary  department.  At  the  conclusion 


56        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

of  the  war  it  was  bought  by  Major  A.  H. 
Drewry,  the  hero  of  Drewry's  Bluff.  He  mar 
ried  Miss  Harrison,  a  member  of  a  collateral 
branch  of  the  ancient  race.  There  is  genuine 
satisfaction  in  knowing  that  it  is  again  "back 
in  the  family."  The  Major,  an  able  financier 
and  intelligent  agriculturist,  has  restored  man 
sion  and  farming-lands  to  a  condition  so  nearly 
approximating  that  of  the  "genial  seigneur's" 
times  as  to  deserve  the  gratitude  of  all  who 
survey  the  noble  building  and  smiling  acres. 

Leaving  the  burying-ground  at  our  back, 
we  pass  by  cottage  "quarters  "  and  the  exten 
sive  stables,  where  the  score  of  mules  are  a 
marvel  in  themselves  for  size,  strength  and 
comeliness,  through  the  west  gate,  erected  by 
the  Colonel  Byrd,  into  a  broad  sweep  of  clean 
gravel  curving  up  to  the  house.  The  lawn  is 
incomparable  for  beauty  among  the  river 
homesteads,  rolling  gently  down  to  the  wall 
rebuilt  by  Major  Drewry  on  the  foundation 
of  Colonel  Byrd's,  which  was  demolished  to 
furnish  material  for  Federal  barrack-chimneys. 
The  sward  is  smooth  and  luxuriant,  dotted 
with  grand  trees,  standing  singly  and  in 
clumps.  The  tulip-poplar  on  the  left  of  the 
front-door  is  a  monarch,  carrying  his  crown 


Westover  5  7 

aloft  with  the  pride  of  a  lusty  octogenarian 
who  has  outlived  his  generation. 

The  view  from  the  squared  stone  steps, 
stained  with  time,  was  especially  beautiful  one 
showery  day  in  April,  when  up-river  floods  had 
dyed  the  waters  a  dull-red.  The  warm  color 
deluded  the  eye  with  the  effect  of  a  sunset  re 
flection  that  seemed  to  light  up  the  rain-swept 
lawn  and  the  gray  boundary-lines  blurred  by 
mists.  And  all  the  while,  the  birds  were  sing 
ing  !  Red-winged  blackbirds,  wrens,  cat-birds, 
mocking-birds,  robins,  American  sparrows, 
red-birds, — these  last  dropping  like  sudden 
flame  from  the  wet  trees, — thrushes, — every 
little  throat  and  heart  swelling  with  the  gospel, 
"  Behind  the  clouds  is  the  sun  still  shining!" 

Truly,  bright  days  have  come  to  Westover. 
Every  arable  foot  of  the  large  estate  is  under 
cultivation,  and  a  marsh  of  300  acres  over 
which  duck-hunters  and  fishermen  used  to  sail, 
has  been  reclaimed  by  steam-dredge  and 
pump. 

A  great  hall  cuts  the  house  in  two ;  the 
twisted  balustrades  of  the  stairs  at  the  back 
are  of  solid  mahogany ;  all  the  lofty  rooms  are 
wainscoted  up  to  the  ceiling.  Over  the  draw 
ing-room  mantel  Colonel  Byrd  had  a  mirror 


58         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

built  into  the  wall,  and  framed  in  white  Italian 
marble  wrought  into  grapes,  leaves,  and  ten 
drils.  The  cost  was  five  hundred  pounds. 
The  troops  in  occupation  during  the  war 
shivered  the  mirror  and  beat  the  sides  of  the 
frame  to  pieces,  leaving  the  plainer  setting  at 
bottom  and  top  comparatively  unharmed. 

Through  the  open  back-door  (which  is  the 
carriage-front)  is  visible  a  curious  iron  gate, 
surmounted  by  the  monogram,  "  W.  E.  B." 
The  soldiers  levelled  it  also,  with  the  two  leaden 
eagles  perched  on  stone  globes,  "with  a  rak 
ish,  degagde  air  positively  disgraceful  at  their 
age  ! "  declares  the  sweet-facecl,  sunny-hearted 
mistress  of  the  home.  The  visitors  dislodged 
the  stone  balls  and  pineapples  that  alternate 
upon  the  posts  of  the  fence  dividing  the  yard 
from  the  level  richness  of  the  fields.  Major 
Drewry  sought  and  gathered  up  each  fragment 
and  restored  all  to  their  original  places,  ex 
pending  at  least  $20,000  in  the  work  of  rep 
aration  of  buildings  and  enclosures. 

The  left  corridor  and  wing  pulled  down  by 
the  soldiers,  have  not  been  rebuilt.  A  tool- 
house  stands  above  a  dry  well  once  covered  by 
this  wing.  The  cemented  sides  slope  inward 
toward  the  bottom.  At  a  depth  of  fifteen  feet 


Westover 


59 


are  two  lateral  chambers  eight  feet  square.  The 
walls  are  of  smooth  cement,  the  floors  paved 
with  brick.  In  one  of  these  formerly  stood  a 


A  CURIOUS  IRON  GATE.' 


round  stone  table    with    a    central    shaft   and 
spreading-  feet.     Again,  tradition  comes  to  our 


60        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

aid  with  tales  of  a  hiding-place  from  the  In 
dians,  connected  with  a  subterranean  passage, 
long  ago  closed,  that  led  to  the  river.  Lean 
ing  over  the  mouth  of  the  shaft,  while  two 
gallant  young  men  descended  a  ladder  with 
lamps  which  revealed  the  arched  entrances  of 
the  mysterious  recesses,  we  three  practical 
women  scouted  Major  Drewry's  suggestions  of 
meat  and  wine  cellars,  and  when  we  had  drawn 
from  him  the  account  of  a  tunnel,  the  mouth  of 
which  was  unearthed  by  his  laborers  but  a  few 
weeks  before,  we  remained  in  possession  of  the 
field.  Nothing  was  clearer  to  our  apprehen 
sion  than  that  this  tunnel — opening  upon  the 
river — five  feet  in  height  and  as  many  wide, 
and  paved  with  flagstones,  formerly  connected 
directly  with  our  vaults,  and  was  constructed 
in  the  near  memory  of  the  Indian  Massacre  of 
1622,  when  in  the  list  of  the  "  killed  "  we  read 
"  At  Westover  about  a  mile  from  Berkeley  Hun 
dred,  33"  Had  not  Cooper  described  in  his 

Wept-of- Wish-ton- Wish,    just  such    a  well,    in 
which  a  whole    colony  took  refuge  while  the 

blockhouse  was  burned  over  their  heads  ? 

Berkeley,  the  "  Berkeley  Hundred  "  of  the 
chronicle,  is  still  in  excellent  preservation,  the 
English  brick  of  which  it  was  built  promising  to 


Westover 


61 


last  two  centuries  longer.  The  owner  of  the 
plantation  at  the  date  of  the  Massacre  was  Mr. 
George  Thorpe,  one  of  the  principal  men  of 
the  colony  who  had  befriended  Opechanca- 
nough — the  uncle  of  Pocahontas — in  every 
possible  manner,  and  treated  all  the  Indians 


BERKELEY. 


with  marked  kindness.  "  He  had  been  warned 
of  his  danger  by  a  servant,  but,  making  no 
effort  to  escape,  fell  a  victim  to  his  misplaced 
confidence." 


62         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  place  passed  out  of  the  Harrison  fam 
ily,  a  quarter-century  ago,  after  eight  genera 
tions  of  the  name  and  blood  had  owned  it  and 
lived  there.  Gen.  W.  H.  Harrison  was  born  at 
Berkeley,  and  came  to  Virginia,  after  his  elec 
tion  to  the  Presidency,  expressly  to  write  his 
inaugural  "  in  his  mother's  room." 


Ill 

SHIRLEY 

THE  old  homesteads  of  James  River  are 
linked  together  by  ties  of  consanguinity 
and  affection,  interesting  and  sometimes  amus 
ing  to  the  outside  spectator,  yet  exceedingly 
pretty  in  the  natural  acceptation  of  relation 
ships  on  the  part  of  those  involved  in  them. 

The  ramifications  of  blood  and  family  con 
nections  exist  elsewhere  of  course,  but  it  is 
seldom  that  a  locality — such  as  a  village  or 
township — in  Northern  and  Western  States,  is 
settled  entirely  by  cousins  from  generation  to 
generation.  Still  rarer  is  the  custom  of  re 
cognizing  the  kinship  to  the  fifth  and  sixth 
remove,  which  makes  the  Old  Virginia  neigh 
borhood  a  standing  illustration  of  the  text— 
"He  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations " 
(read  "  conditions"  )  "of  men." 

63 


64        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  utterance  of  the  names  of  a  generation 
is  like  the  whispering  together  of  many  branches 
of  a  genealogical  tree.  Nelson  Page  and  Page 
Nelson  ;  Carter  Page  and  Page  Carter  ;  Mann 
Page ;  William  Byrd  Page ;  Carter  Harrison 
and  Harrison  Carter ;  Shirley  Harrison;  Byrd 
Harrison;  Shirley  Carter;  Carter  Berkeley; 
Carter  Braxton — and  a  hundred  other  inter 
changes  and  unions  of  surnames  and  baptismal 
prsenomens  tell  the  tale  of  intermarriage,  and  of 
affection  for  the  line  "  in  linked  appellation 
long  drawn  out."  One  versed  in  State  history, 
on  hearing  one  of  these  compounded  titles, 
can  arrive,  forthwith,  at  a  fair  apprehension  of 
who  were  the  owner's  forbears,  and  in  what 
county  he  was  born. 

Hill  Carter  of  Shirley,  than  whom  no  Vir 
ginia  planter  of  this  century  was  better  and 
more  favorably  known,  thus  proclaimed  his 
lineage  and  birthplace  with  unmistakable 
distinctness. 

In  1611,  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  Governor  of  the 
Colony  of  Virginia  and  chiefly  renowned  for 
the  part  he  took  in  forwarding  the  marriage  of 
Rolfe  and  Pocahontas,  laid  out  and  gave  title 
to  the  plantation  of  West  Shirley,  named,  it  is 
said,  in  honor  of  Sir  Thomas  Shirley,  of  Whis- 


Shirley  65 

ton,  England.  It  is  set  down  in  the  history 
of  the  Indian  Massacre  of  1622  as  one*of  the 
"  five  or  six  well-fortified  places  "  into  which  the 
survivors  gathered  for  defence,  leaving  homes, 
cattle,  and  furniture  to  destruction.  There  is 
no  record  of  "  killed  "  at  this  place. 

The  estate  comes  into  historical  prominence 
as  the  seat  of  the  Honorable — sometimes 
called  "  Sir  "-  —Edward  Hill,  "  a  member  of  His 
Majesty's  Council  in  Virginia,  Colonel  and 
Commander-in-Chief  of  the  Counties  of  Charles 
City  and  Surry,  Judge  of  his  Majesty's  High 
Court  of  Admiralty,  and  Treasurer  of  Vir 
ginia."  He  was  Speaker  of  the  Assembly  of 
Burgesses  convened  in  November,  1654,  at 
which  time  "  William  Hatcher,  being  convicted 
of  having  stigmatized  Colonel  Edward  Hill, 
Speaker  of  the  House,  as  an  atheist  and  blas 
phemer,  was  compelled  to  make  acknowledg 
ment  of  his  offense  upon  his  knees  before 
Colonel  Hill  and  the  Assembly." 

The  scene  in  the  Assembly-Room  when  the 
sentence  was  carried  into  execution  was,  says 
tradition,  exceedingly  impressive.  The  stifled 
choler  and  sullen  submission  of  the  offender ; 
the  dignity  maintained  by  the  most  Christian 
Speaker,  whose  innocence  of  the  "  stigma- 


66        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

tizing "  charges  was  thus  publicly  disproved  ; 
the  awed  solemnity  of  the  honorable  Burgesses 
in  Council  assembled — were  a  sight  to  make 
the  Albany  of  two  hundred  years  later  stare  in 
dumb  amaze,  and  the  Houses  of  Congress  as 
sembled  at  Washington  shake  with  "  inextin 
guishable  laughter." 

In  1698-99,  the  name  of 
Robert  Carter  is  given  as 
Speaker  of  the  House  and 
Treasurer  of  Virginia.  His 
father,  John  Carter,  emi 
grated  from  England  in 
1649  and  settled,  first  in 
upper  Norfolk,  now  Nanse- 
mond  County,  afterward  in 
CARTER  COAT-OF-ARMS.  Lancaster.  We  hear  of  him 
in  1658  as  chairman  of  a  committee  in  the 
House  of  Burgesses  that  drew  up  a  declaration 
of  popular  sovereignty.  At  the  next  session, 
Col.  Edward  Hill  was  elected  Speaker.  "  Col. 
Moore  Fauntleroy,  of  Rappahannock  County, 
not  being  present  at  the  election,  moved  against 
him  as  if  clandestinely  elected,  and  taxed  the 
House  with  unwarrantable  proceedings  therein. 
He  was  suspended  until  next  clay,  when,  ac 
knowledging  his  error,  he  was  readmitted." 


KINQ  CARTER.' 


Shirley  69 

In  the  list  of  members  of  this  Assembly,  we 
note  "  Colonel  John  Carter,"  also  "  Mr.  War- 
ham  Horsemander,"  the  father  of  the  first 
Colonel  Byrd's  wife.  It  is  probable  that  an 
intimacy  between  the  two  leading  spirits,  Car 
ter  and  Hill,  had  already  begun  which  extended 
to  their  families. 

Robert  Carter  became  one  of  the  largest 
landholders  in  Virginia,  holding  so  much  real 
estate  in  Lancaster  County  and  elsewhere  as 
to  be  popularly  known  as  "  King  Carter."  He 
held  semi-regal  sway  at  his  homestead,  Coroto- 
man,  on  the  Rappahannock,  built  a  church, 
which  is  still  standing,  and  brought  up  to 
man's  and  woman's  estate  one  dozen  children 
to  keep  alive  his  name  in  his  native  state. 
His  tomb,  sadly  mutilated  by  the  relic-fiend,  is 
at  Corotoman. 

His  son,  John,  married  Col.  Edward  Hill's 
daughter,  Elizabeth,  and  became,  by  virtue  of 
her  succession  to  her  father's  estate,  master  of 
Shirley. 

Benjamin  Harrison,  of  Berkeley,  married 
one  of  King  Carter's  daughters.  Mr.  Har 
rison  and  two  of  his  daughters  were  killed  by  a 
flash  of  lightning  at  Berkeley  some  years  later. 
Another  daughter  married  Mann  Page  of  Tim- 


70        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

berneck.  Without  following  farther  bough  and 
twig  of  the  genealogical  tree  aforesaid,  enough 
has  been  told  to  account  for  the  plentiful  har 
vest  of  Carters  in  Eastern  and  Central  Virginia. 
Annie  Carter  Lee,  wife  of  "  Light  Horse 
Harry "  Lee,  and  mother  of  Robert  E.  Lee, 
was  a  descendant  of  King"  Carter,  and  was 

o 

born  at  Shirley. 

The  shores  of  the  watery  highway  from 
Norfolk  to  Richmond  are  strikingly  beautiful, 
especially  in  autumn  and  early  spring.  At  the 
latter  season,  the  winter  wheat  in  rich  luxuri 
ance  rolls  back  to  the  hills  outlying  the  low 
lands  ;  orchards  are  in  full  bloom  ;  snowy  dog 
wood  and  rosy  red-bud  and  the  lovely  fringe- 
tree,  seldom  seen  except  in  Virginia,  alternate 
with  the  pale-green  of  birch  and  willow.  Wide 
spaces  of  the  steeper  banks  are  whitened  by 
wild  lilies  and  reddened  by  columbine.  Every 
bend  of  the  stream  is  historic.  Bermuda  Hun 
dred,  City  Point,  Turkey  Island,  Malvern  Hills, 
Powhatan, — one  of  the  royal  residences  of  the 
stout-hearted  Indian  kino-  — a  fascinating- 

o '  o 

melange  of  legendary  lore  and  exciting  inci 
dents  of  what  every  patriot  prays  may  stand 
forever  on  the  page  of  national  history  at  "  the 
last  war," — keeps  sense  and  thought  on  the 


JUDITH  ARMISTEAD 
(WIFE  OF  KING  CARTER). 


Shirley  73 

alert,  and  reconciles  the  passenger  to  the  many 
"  landings  "  and  slow  progress  of  the  steamer 
up  the  river.  The  situation  of  Shirley  on  a 
bluff  affords  the  eye  an  extensive  sweep  of 
land  and  water  in  every  direction.  We  can 
not  but  commend  the  judgment  of  Captain 
John  Smith  and  his  contemporaries  in  select 
ing  this  as  one  of  the  first  forts  built  by  the 
Virginia  colonists.  As  we  have  seen,  it  was 
one  of  the  strongest. 

The  present  manor-house  was  erected  in  the 
iyth  century — it  is  said  about  1650.  It  is 
more  compact  in  structure  than  Upper  and 
Lower  Brandon,  Westover,  and  Berkeley. 
The  corridor  extensions  and  flanking  wings  of 
the  first  three  seem  to  have  met  with  no  favor 
in  the  eyes  of  builder  and  owner.  In  form 
and  proportions  the  mansion  reminds  us  rather 
of  a  French  chateau  than  of  an  English 
country-seat  such  as  was  the  model  of  most 
colonial  proprietors.  It  suffered  less  from  the 
civil  war  than  the  others,  and  has  been  kept  in 
perfect  order,  such  restorations  as  were  needful 
being  made  in  keeping  with  the  original  design. 

The  pillared  porch  of  the  water  front  looks 
out  upon  an  elbow  of  the  river.  The  lawn  is 
enclosed  by  a  superb  box-tree  hedge  ;  trees  of 


74        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

flowering  box  attract  the  earliest  bees  of  the 
season  by  the  sweet  pungency  of  their  odor  ; 
the  garden  squares,  laid  out  and  stocked  in  the 
dear  old  English  style,  are  edged  with  the 


SHIRLEY. 


An  ivied  tree  here,  a  wide- 
branching  poplar  there,  and,  nearer  the  water, 
a  clump  of  forest  oaks,  allow  very  unsatisfac 
tory  glimpses  of  the  grand  old  homestead 
from  steamboats  and  other  river  craft. 


Shirley  75 

The  death  of  the  late  master  of  Shipley,  Mr. 
Robert  Randolph  Carter,  which  occurred  in 
the  spring  of  1888,  cast  a  gloom  over  the  en 
tire  neighborhood.  He  was  a  Virginia  gentle 
man  of  the  noblest  stamp,  one  whose  loss  is 
irreparable,  not  only  to  his  family,  but  to  com 
munity  and  State.  We  see  the  traces  of  his 
wise  administration  everywhere  in  the  magnifi 
cent  plantation — in  wheat-fields  hundreds  of 
acres  in  extent ;  luxuriant  corn-lands ;  well- 
kept  stock  and  commodious  cottage  "  quarters," 
to  each  of  which  belongs  a  garden  of  fair  ex 
tent,  neatly  tilled. 

The  central  hall  and  the  staircase  are  re 
markably  fine.  Hatchments  of  great  age  are 
set  over  two  doors.  The  drawing-room  of 

o 

noble  proportions  is  wainscoted  and  elegantly 
furnished.  In  this,  as  in  the  hall  and  dining- 
room,  are  the  likenesses  of  numerous  Hills 
and  Carters.  A  full-length,  life-size  picture  of 
Washington  by  Peale,  hangs  in  the  dining- 
parlor  which  adjoins  the  drawing-room.  One 
of  the  portraits  in  the  latter  apartment  is  of  a 
beautiful  Welsh  heiress,  Miss  Williams,  who 
married  Colonel  (or  Sir)  Edward  Hill  and 
came  with  him  to  America.  The  portrait  of 
John  Carter,  the  lucky  winner  of  Miss  Hill's 


76        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

heart  and  hand,  is  a  three-quarter-length  like 
ness  of  a  gallant  gentleman  in  flowing  peruke 
and  lace  cravat.  His  velvet  coat  is  trimmed 
with  silver  lace  and  buttons  ;  puffed  cambric 
undersleeves  enhance  the  slim  elegance  of  his 
hands.  Beautiful  hands  were  hereditary  with 
the  race  if  limners  told  the  truth. 

His  daughter  Elizabeth,  has  the  same,  and 
is  apparently  aware  of  the  fact.  Her  eyes  are 
almond-shaped,  like  her  father's ;  her  face  is 
plump  and  complacent,  with  more  than  a  dis 
position  to  a  double-chin.  A  coquettish  hat  is 
tied  lightly  on  the  crown  of  the  round  dark 
head ;  her  pale-blue  gown  is  emphatically 
decollete  ;  her  elbow-sleeves  are  edged  with 
priceless  lace.  She  bears  a  strong  resemblance 
to  her  squire  brother,  Charles  Carter,  who 
hangs  near  by.  He  was  an  exemplary  citizen 
and  earnest  Churchman.  His  name  is  among 
those  of  the  lay  delegates  to  the  Episcopal 
Convention  held  in  Richmond  in  i  793. 

Had  Elizabeth  Hill  Carter  been  a  dairymaid 
we  would  call  her  buxom,  and  the  set  agree- 
ableness  of  her  smile  a  smirk.  She  married 
at  seventeen  the  third  Colonel  Byrd  of  West- 
over,  and  bore  him  five  children.  The  young 
parents  did  not  live  happily  together,  we  are 


Shirley  77 

told.  Both  were  the  spoiled  children  of  for 
tune,  and  pulled  in  so  many  different  ways 
that  their  misunderstandings  were  neighbor 
hood  gossip.  It  was  surmised  that  it  was 
rather  a  shock  than  a  woe  to  Colonel  Byrd, 
when,  as  he  sat  at  the  whist-table  in  a  friend's 
house,  a  messenger  rode  over  in  hot  haste 
from  Westover  to  tell  him  that  Mrs.  Byrd  had 
pulled  a  wardrobe  over  on  herself  and  been 
instantly  killed.  It  may  have  been  the  infalli 
ble  instinct  of  good  blood  and  breeding  that 
made  him  rise  from  the  table  and  bow  apolo 
getically  to  his  partner  with  a  courteous  regret 
that  the  game  could  not  go  on.  This  partner, 
gossip  hints  furthermore,  was  the  pretty 
**  Molly  Willing,"  whom  he  afterward  married. 

Mrs.  Byrd's  accidental  death  occurred  eleven 
years  after  her  marriage,  when  she  was  but 
twenty-eight.  The  date  was  1760.  The 
chronicle  adds  dryly :  "  There  is  no  record 
preserved  of  his  second  marriage.  It  is  sup 
posed  to  have  been  in  1760."  To  round  off 
the  gossipy  tale,  the  story  has  come  down  of 
the  nickname  "Willing  Molly"  applied  to  the 
fair  Philadelphian  who  won  the  "catch"  of  the 
county  from  Virginia  belles. 

Without    casting   discredit    upon  local  and 


78         Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

traditional  authorities,  oral  and  documentary, 
we  may  surely  reserve  to  ourselves  the  right, 
in  view  of  what  we  have  learned  elsewhere  of 
Mrs.  Byrd's  character  as  a  woman,  wife,  and 
mother,  of  hinting  at  a  possible  cause  for  the 
tale  and  nickname.  The  Byrds  were  princes 
in  their  own  ri^ht  even  as  late  as  i  760,  and  the 

£>  / 

beautiful  visitor  to  the  hospitable  neighborhood 
may  have  shared  the  fate  of  other  poachers. 

She  loved  her  lord  passionately,  faithfully, 
and  always,  we  learn  in  the  history  of  West- 
over.  She  made  him  happier,  and  adminis 
tered  the  affairs  of  the  realm  far  more  judi 
ciously  than  his  first  wife  ever  could,  had  her 
desire  been  never  so  good. 

But  did  this  happy  husband  and  pious  gen 
tleman  ever  bethink  himself  in  the  devotional 
promenade  under  his  ancestral  trees  "about 
dark,"  mentioned  in  our  WESTOVER  paper,  of  the 
child  he  had  first  wedded,  and  give  a  sigh  at 
her  untimely  and  tragic  death  ?  He  may  have 
been  sorely  tried  by  her  caprices  and  flurries, 
but  we  are  heartily  sorry  for  her  when  we  learn 
that  she  grieved  bitterly  for  the  little  boys 
whom  their  father  insisted  upon  sending  to 
England  to  be  educated,  as  was  the  custom  of 
the  Byrds  and  that  she  never  saw  them  again. 


Shirley  79 

In  a  curious  and  now  rare  book  entitled, 
Travels  in  North  America  in  1780-1781  and 
i  782,  by  the  Marquis  de  Chastellcux,  we  have 
a  glimpse  of  one  of  these  motherless  boys. 
The  noble  tourist  passed  several  days  at  West- 
over  and  is  enthusiastic  in  his  praise  of  poor 
Betty's  successor : 

44  She  is  about  two-and-forty,  with  an  agree 
able  countenance  and  great  sense," — is  a 
sentence  that,  against  our  will,  provokes  com 
parison  with  the  spoiled,  passionate  child. 

"  Betty  "  left  four  children  ;  the  second  Mrs. 
Byrd  had  eight.  The  Frenchman  lauds  her 
excellent  management  of  the  encumbered 
estate,  and  sympathizes  in  her  various  misfor 
tunes. 

"  Three  times  have  the  English  landed  at 
Westover  under  Arnold  and  Cornwallis,  and, 
'though  these  visits  cost  her  clear,  her  husband's 
former  attachment  to  England,  where  his  eldest 
son  is  now  serving  in  tlic  army,  her  relationship 
with  Arnold,  whose  cousin-german  she  is,  and 
perhaps,  too,  the  jealousy  of  her  neighbors, 
have  given  birth  to  suspicions  that  war  alone 
was  not  the  object  which  induced  the  English 
always  to  make  their  descents  at  her  habita 
tion.  She  has  been  accused  even  of  conniv- 


8o        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ance  with  them,  and  the  government  have 
once  set  their  seal  upon  her  papers,  but  she 
has  braved  the  tempest  and  defended  herself 
with  firmness." 

We  confess, — again  and  reluctantly — for  our 
hearts  cling  irrationally  to  the  naughty  pickle 
whom  the  paragon  displaced  in  her  husband's, 
and  probably  in  her  children's,  hearts — that 
Betty  would  never  have  steered  a  laden  barque 
thus  safely  through  seas  that  wrecked  many  a 
fair  American  fortune.  It  was  well  for  all 
whose  fates  were  linked  with  hers  that  the 
stormy  chapter  was  short  and  the  end  abrupt. 

In  addition  to  disagreement  with  husband 
and  separation  from  children,  she  had,  as  we 
are  informed  upon  the  authority  of  family 
MSS.,  the  trial  of  a  severely  captious  mother- 
in-law.  The  stepmother  who  pitied  the  fair 
Evelyn,  dying  slowly  of  a  broken  heart,  ruled 
her  son's  girl-wife  sharply.  There  is  extant  a 
letter  in  which  she  complains  of  "  Betty's " 
frivolous  taste  and  extravagance,  and  that  the 
silly  creature  would  think  herself  ruined  for 
time  and  eternity  "  if  she  could  not  have  two 
new  lutestring  gowns  every  year."  It  is  a 
matter  of  traditional  report  that  the  mother- 
in-law  hid  some  of  Betty's  belongings,  or 


ELIZABETH   HILL  CARTER  ("BETTY"). 


Shirley  83 

something  the  wilful  wife  longed  to  possess, 
on  the  top  of  the  tall  wardrobe.  Others  say 
she  suspected  the  existence  of  letters  that 
would  justify  her  jealous  misgivings  as  to  her 
lord's  fidelity,  and  was  looking  for  them  when 
the  big  press  careened  and  crushed  her. 

The  wraith  of  the  apple-cheeked,  careless- 
eyed  girl,  whose  fixed  smile  grows  tiresome  as 
we  gaze,  may  not  walk  at  Shirley,  as  Evelyn 
Byrd  is  said  to  glide  along  halls  and  staircases 
at  Westover,  but  we  remember  her  and  her 
fate  more  vividly  than  any  other  face  and  his 
tory  committed  to  sight  and  memory  at  the 
ancient  manor-house. 


IV 

THE  MARSHALL  HOUSE 

THE  house  built  by  John  Marshall, — United 
States  Envoy  to  France  1797-98  ;  Mem 
ber  of  Congress  from  Virginia  1799-1800; 
Secretary  of  State,  1800-1801,  and  Chief-Jus 
tice  of  the  U.  S.  Supreme  Court  1801-35,— 
and  in  which  he  resided  until  his  death,  except 
when  the  duties  of  his  office  called  him  to 
Washington,  is  still  standing  in  Richmond, 
Virginia,  on  the  corner  of  Marshall  and  Ninth 
Streets.  The  ownership  has  remained  in  the 
family  for  almost  a  century,  although  the 
dwelling  has  had  other  tenants,  among  them 
the  late  Henry  A.  Wise. 

The  whole  block  was  covered  by  a  famous 
fruit  and  vegetable  garden  when  the  house 
was  erected.  The  exterior  has  never  been  re 
modelled,  and  there  have  been  few  changes 

84 


The  Marshall  House  85 

within.  By  an  odd,  and  what  seems  to  us  an 
inexplicable,  mischance,  the  architect,  in  Judge 
Marshall's  prolonged  absence,  built  the  whole 
mansion  "hind-side  before."  A  handsome  en- 


t 


MARSHALL    HOUSE,   RICHMOND,  VA. 

trance-hall  and  staircase,  the  balusters  of  which 
are  of  carved  cherry,  dark  with  age,  are  at  the 
back,  opening  toward  the  garden  and  domestic 
offices.  Directly  in  front  of  this  is  the  dining- 
room,  looking  upon  Marshall  Street.  What 


86        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

was  meant  in  the  plan  to  be  the  back-door,  in 
the  wall  opposite  the  fireplace,  gives  upon  a 
porch  on  the  same  thoroughfare.  The  general 
entrance  for  visitors  is  by  a  smaller  door  on  the 
side  street.  Turning  to  the  right  from  this 
through  another  door  which  is  a  modern  affair, 
one  finds  himself  in  what  was,  at  first,  a  second 
hall,  lighted  by  two  windows  and  warmed  by 
an  open  fireplace.  This  was  the  family  sitting- 
room  in  olden  times,  although  open  on  two 
sides  to  the  view  of  all  who  might  enter  by 
front  or  back  door. 

Altogether,  the  architectural  and  domestic 
arrangements  of  the  interior  are  refreshingly 
novel  to  one  used  to  the  jealous  privacies 
and  labor-saving  conveniences  of  the  modern 
home.  We  reflect  at  once  that  every  dish  of 
the  great  dinners,  which  were  the  salient  feat 
ure  of  hospitality  then,  must  have  been  brought 
by  hand  across  the  kitchen-yard,  up  the  back 
steps  through  the  misplaced  hall,  and  put  upon 
the  table  which,  we  are  told,  was  set  diagonally 
across  the  room  to  accommodate  the  guests  at 
Judge  Marshall's  celebrated  "  lawyers'  dinners." 

The  Marshall  House  is  now  the  property 
of  Mr.  F.  G.  Ruffin,  whose  wife  is  a  grand 
daughter  of  the  Chief-Justice,  his  only  claugh- 


The  Marshall  House  87 

ter  having  married  the  late  Gen.  Jaquelin 
Burwell  Harvie. 

Mrs.  Ruffin  gives  a  graphic  description  of 
these  feasts,  as  beheld  by  her,  then  a  child, 
peeping  surreptitiously  through  the  door  left 
ajar  by  the  passing  servants.  The  Chief- 
Justice  sat  at  the  head  of  the  long  board  near 
est  the  fireplace,  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Harvie, 
at  the  foot.  Between  them  were  never  less 
than  thirty  members  of  the  Virginia  Bar,  and 
the  sons  of  such  as  had  grown,  or  nearly 
grown  lads.  The  damask  cloth  was  covered 
with  good  things  ;  big  barons  of  beef,  joints 
of  mutton  ;  poultry  of  all  kinds  ;  vegetables, 
pickles,  etc.,  and  the  second  course  was  as 
profuse.  The  witty  things  said,  the  roars  of 
laughter  that  applauded  them,  the  succession  of 
humorous  and  wise  talk,  having,  for  the  centre 

o ' 

of  all,  the  distinguished  master  of  the  feast,  have 
no  written  record,  but  were  never  forgotten  by 
the  participants  in  the  mighty  banquets. 

Besides  his  daughter,  the  Chief-Justice  had 
five  sons  ;  Thomas,  for  whom  his  father  built 
the  house  opposite  his  own,  which  is  still 
standing;  Jaquelin,  the  namesake  of  his  Hu 
guenot  ancestor;  John,  James,  and  Edward. 
The  last-named  died  in  Washington  a  few 


88        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

years  ago,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  a  clerk  in  one 
of  the  government  offices. 

Judge  Marshall  lived  so  near  our  day,  and 
bore  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the  history  of 
a  country  which  cherishes  his  fame,  that  every 
tolerably  well-educated  person  is  familiar  with 
his  name  and  public  services. 

Old  residents  of  the  Virginian  capital  like 
to  tell  stories  of  the  well-beloved  eccentric 
who  made  the  modest  building  on  Marshall 
Street  historical.  The  quarter  was  aristocratic 
then.  The  stately  residences  of  Amblers, 
Wickhams,  and  Leighs  claimed  and  made  ex- 
clusiveness,  which  in  her  later  march  Fashion 
laughs  to  scorn.  Nothing  could  make  Judge 
Marshall  fashionable.  His  disregard  of  pre 
vailing  styles,  or  even  neatness  in  apparel, 
was  so  well  known  that  these  peculiarities 
attracted  no  attention  from  his  fellow-citi 
zens.  He  was  a  law  unto  himself  in  dress 
and  habits.  His  cravat — white  by  courtesy- 
was  twisted  into  a  creased  wisp  by  his  nervous 
fingers,  and  the  knot  was  usually  under  his 
ear.  He  wore  his  coat  threadbare  without 
having  it  brushed,  his  shoes  were  untied  and 
the  lacings  trailed  in  the  dust,  and  his  hat  was 
pushed  to  the  back  of  his  head. 


CHIEF-JUSTICE    MARSHALL. 


The  Marshall  House  91 

In  action  he  was  no  less  independent  of 
others'  example  and  criticism.  It  was  the 
custom  then,  in  the  easy-going,  hospitable 
city,  for  gentlemen  who  were  heads  of  fami 
lies  to  do  their  own  marketing.  The  Old 
Market  on  lower  Main  Street  witnessed  many 
friendly  meetings  each  morning  of  "solid 
men,"  and  echoed  to  much  wise  and  witty 
talk.  Behind  each  gentleman,  stood  and 
walked  a  negro  footman,  bearing  a  big  basket 
in  which  the  morning  purchases  were  depos 
ited  and  taken  home.  About  the  market 
place  also  hung  men  and  boys,  eager  to  turn 
an  honest  shilling  by  assisting  in  this  burden- 
bearinor  if  need  offered. 

o 

Judge  Marshall  shook  hands  and  chatted 
cheerily  with  acquaintances,  who  were  all 
friends  and  admirers,  and  when  his  purchases 
were  made,  shouldered  his  own  basket  or,  if 
as  often  happened,  he  had  forgotten  to  bring 
it,  loaded  himself  up  with  the  provisions  as 
best  suited  his  humor.  His  invariable  prac 
tice  was  to  carry  home  whatever  he  bought  at 
stall  or  shop. 

My  childish  recollection  is  vivid  of  a  scene 
described  in  my  hearing  by  a  distinguished 
Richmond  lawyer,  now  dead,  of  a  meeting 


92        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

with  the  great  jurist  on  the  most  public  part 
of  Main  Street  one  morning  in  Christmas- 
week.  A  huge  turkey,  with  the  legs  tied 
together,  hung,  head  downward,  from  one  of 
the  Judge's  arms,  a  pair  of  ducks  dangled 
from  the  other.  A  brown-paper  bundle,  rud 
died  by  the  beefsteak  it  enveloped,  had  been 
forced  into  a  coat-tail  pocket,  and  festoons  of 
"chitterlings" — a  homely  dish  of  which  he 
was  as  fond  as  George  the  Third  of  boiled 
mutton  —  overflowed  another,  and  bobbed 
against  his  lean  calves. 

Another  story  is  of  a  young  man  who  had 
lately  removed  to  Richmond,  who  accosted  a 
rusty  stranger  standing  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Markethouse  as  "  old  man,"  and  asked  if  he 
"  would  not  like  to  make  a  ninepence  by  carry 
ing  a  turkey  home  for  him  ? "  The  rusty 
stranger  took  the  gobbler  without  a  word,  and 
walked  behind  the  young  householder  to  the 
latter's  gate. 

"  Catch  ! "  said  the  "  fresh  "  youth,  chuck 
ing  ninepence  at  his  hireling. 

The  coin  was  deftly  caught,  and  pocketed, 
and  as  the  old  man  turned  away,  a  well- 
known  citizen,  in  passing,  raised  his  hat  so 
deferentially,  that  the  turkey-buyer  was  sur- 


The  Marshall  House  93 

prised  into  asking,  "  Who  is  that  shabby  old 
fellow?" 

"  The  Chief-Justice  of  the  United  States." 

"  Impossible  ! "  stammered  the  horrified 
blunderer, — "  Why  did  he  bring  my  turkey 
home,  and — take — my  ninepence  ?  " 

"  Probably  to  teach  you  a  lesson  in  good 
breeding  and  independence.  He  will  give  the 
money  away  before  he  gets  home.  You  can't 
get  rid  of  the  lesson.  And  he  would  carry 
ten  turkeys  and  walk  twice  as  far  for  the  joke 
you  have  given  him." 

We  can  easily  imagine  that  the  incident  may 
have  been  related  in  the  host's  raciest  style  at 
the  next  lawyers'  dinner  under  which  the  di 
agonal  table  creaked  in  the,  then,  modern 
homestead.  And  we  wonder  who  got  the  his 
toric  ninepence.  It  would  be  a  priceless  coin, 
were  identification  possible. 

To  admirers  of  the  statesman-patriot,  the 
writer  and  jurist,  a  glimpse  of  the  man,  as  his 
family  saw  him,  when  the  front  and  back  doors 
of  his  reversed  habitation  were  closed  to  the 
world,  will  be  acceptable. 

As  at  Westover  and  Shirley,  the  most  inter 
esting  of  the  procession  of  visionary  shapes 
that  glide  past  the  muser  in  the  chambers  of 


94        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

the  weather-beaten  and  gray  old  house,  is  a 
woman. 

Mary  Willis  Ambler  was  a  descendant  of 
Edward  Jaquelin,  an  Englishman  of  French- 
Huguenot  extraction,  who  arrived  in  America 
in  1697,  and  settling  at  Jamestown,  became 
eventually  the  owner  of  the  island  plantation. 
His  daughter  Elizabeth  married  Richard  Am 
bler,  and  a  grandson,  Edward  Ambler,  espoused 
Mary  Gary,  George  Washington's  first  love. 
Another  grandson,  Jaquelin  Ambler,  married 
Rebecca  Burwell,  of  whom  Thomas  Jefferson 
was,  when  young,  passionately  enamoured,  and 
Mary  Willis  was  the  second  daughter  of  the 
union.  It  would  appear  from  the  account 
given  of  the  circumstances  attending  her  first 
meeting  with  Mr.  (then  Captain)  John  Mar 
shall,  that  the  talent  for  supplanting  rivals  in 
the  court  of  hearts,  which  brought  two  em 
bryo  Presidents  to  grief,  was  hereditary,  and 
most  innocently  improved  by  herself. 

The  Amblers  were  living  in  York  in  1781- 
'82,  when  a  ball  was  held  in  the  neighborhood, 
to  which  Captain  Marshall,  already  reputed  to 
be  a  young  man  of  genius  and  bravery  was 
bidden.  The  fair  damsels  of  the  district  were 
greatly  excited  at  the  prospect  of  meeting 


The  Marshall  House  95 

him,  and  began,  forthwith,  sportive  projects  for 
captivating  him. 

The  graceful  pen  of  Mary  Ambler's  sister, 
Mrs.  Edward  Carrington,  narrates  what  en 
sued  : 

"  It  is  remarkable  that  my  sister,  then  only 
fourteen,  and  diffident  beyond  all  others,  de 
clared  that  we  were  giving  ourselves  useless 
trouble,  for  that  she  (for  the  first  time)  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  the  ball — 'though 
she  had  never  been  to  dancing-school — and  was 
'  resolved  to  set  her  cap  at  him  and  eclipse  us 
all.'  This,  in  the  end,  was  singularly  verified. 
At  the  first  introduction,  he  became  devoted 
to  her.  For  my  part  I  felt  not  the  slightest 
wish  to  contest  the  prize  with  her.  .  .  . 

"  In  this,  as  in  every  other  instance,  my  sis 
ter's  superior  discernment  and  solidity  of  char 
acter  have  been  impressed  upon  me.  She  at  a 
glance  discerned  his  character,  and  understood 
how  to  appreciate  it,  while  I,  expecting  to  see 
an  Adonis,  lost  all  desire  of  becoming  agree 
able  in  his  eyes  when  I  beheld  his  awkward 
figure,  unpolished  manners  and  negligent 
dress." 

John  Marshall  and  Mary  Willis  Ambler 
were  married  April  3,  1783,  the  bride  being 


96        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

under  seventeen,  the  groom  twenty-eight  years 
of  age. 

No  fairer  idyl  of  wedded  bliss  was  ever 
penned  by  poet  than  the  every-day  story  lived 
by  this  husband  and  wife  for  fifty  years  save 
two.  However  negligent  in  attire  and  un 
couth  in  appearance  John  Marshall  might  be 
as  young  man  and  old  ;  however  stern  in  de 
bate  and  uncompromising  in  judgment,  as  a 
public  servant, — to  the  child-wife  who,  after 
the  premature  birth  of  her  first  infant,  never 
had  a  day  of  perfect  health,  he  was  the  ten- 
derest,  most  chivalric  of  lovers.  As  her 
chronic  invalidism  became  more  apparent,  he 
redoubled  his  assiduity  of  attention.  There 
are  those  yet  living  who  recall  how,  on  each 
recurring  22d  of  February  and  4th  of  July,  the 
Marshall  chariot  was  brought  around  to  the 

o 

door  in  the  early  morning,  and  the  Judge, 
after  lifting  the  fragile  woman  into  it,  would 
step  into  it  himself  and  accompany  her  to  the 
house  of  a  country  friend,  there  to  pass  the 
day,  her  nerves  being  too  weak  to  endure  the 
shock  of  the  cannonading. 

They  had  been  married  forty-one  years 
when  he  wrote  her  the  letter  of  which  the  fol 
lowing  extract  is  now  published  for  the  first 


The  Marshall  House  97 

time.  He  was  at  that  date,  February  23, 
1824,  on  official  duty  in  Washington,  and  Mrs. 
Marshall  was  in  Richmond.  The  Chief-Justice 
had  had  a  fall  which  injured  his  knee,  and  had 
kept -the  news  from  his  wife.  Finding-  from 
her  letters  that  the  papers  had  exaggerated 
the  accident,  he  writes  to  his  "dearest  Polly," 
making  light  of  the  hurt,  and  assuring  her 
that  he  will  be  out  in  a  few  days.  Then  he 
continues  : 

"  All  the  ladies  of  Secretaries  have  been  to  see  me, 
some  more  than  once,  and  have  brought  me  more  jelly 
than  I  can  eat,  and  offered  me  a  great  many  good  things. 
I  thank  them  and  stick  to  my  barley  broth. 

"  Still  I  have  plenty  of  time  on  my  hands.  How  do 
you  think  I  beguile  it  ?  I  am  almost  tempted  to  leave 
you  to  guess  until  I  write  again.  .  .  . 

"  You  must  know  I  begin  with  the  ball  at  York  and 
with  the  dinner  on  the  fish  at  your  house  the  next  day. 
I  then  return  to  my  visit  to  York  ;  our  splendid  assem 
bly  at  the  Palace  in  Williamsburg  ;  my  visit  to  Rich 
mond,  where  I  acted  '  Pa '  for  a  fortnight  ;  my  return 
to  the  field  and  the  very  welcome  reception  you  gave  me 
on  my  arrival  from  Dover  ;  our  little  tiffs  and  makings 
up  ;  my  feelings  when  Major  Dick  1  was  courting  you  ; 
my  trip  to  '  The  Cottage,'  [the  Ambler's  home  in  Han 
over,  where  the  marriage  took  place]  and  the  thousand 

1  Major  Richard  Anderson,  father  of  Gen.  Robert  Anderson  of 
Fort  Sumter  renown. 


98        Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

little  incidents  deeply  affecting  in  turn —  [here  the 
paper  is  torn]  coolness  which  contrib  .  .  .  for  a 
time  to  the  happiness  or  misery  of  my  life." 

We  turn  the  yellow,  cracked  sheet  over,  to 
read  again,  with  the  emotion  of  one  who  finds 
hid  treasure  in  an  unpromising  field,  the  prose- 
poem  of  the  lover  who  was  almost  a  septua 
genarian  when  he  wrote  it.  The  grace, 
tenderness,  and  playful  gallantry  of  that  which 
was  meant  only  for  his  wife's  eyes  are  inimita 
ble,  and  preach  a  lesson  to  world-worn,  love- 
sated  hearts  that  no  commentary  can  deepen. 

Another  hitherto  unpublished  letter,  dated 
March  9,  1825,  tells  his  faithful  Polly  of  Mr. 
Adams's  (John  Quincy)  inauguration. 

"  I  administered  the  oath  to  the  President 
in  the  presence  of  an  immense  concourse  of 
people,  in  my  new  suit  of  domestic  manufac 
ture.  He,  too,  was  dressed  in  the  same  man 
ner,  'though  his  cloth  was  made  at  a  different 
establishment.  The  cloth  is  very  fine  and 
smooth." 

The  day  before  she  died,  Mrs.  Marshall  tied 
about  her  husband's  neck  a  ribbon  to  which 
was  attached  a  locket  containing  some  of  her 
hair.  He  wore  it  always  afterward  by  day  and 
night,  never  allowing  another  hand  to  touch  it. 


> 


The  Marshall  House  101 

By  his  directions,  it  was  the  last  thing  taken 
from  his  body  after  his  death,  which  took  place 
in  July,  1835. 

An  extract  from  a  paper  found  folded  up 
with  his  will,  a  written  tribute  to  his  wife, 
solemn,  sweet,  and  infinitely  touching,  may 
fitly  close  a  romance  of  real  life  that  tempts 
us  to  cavil  at  what  sounds  like  the  faint  praise 
of  the  resolutions  of  the  Virginia  Bar,  offered 
by  Benjamin  Watkins  Leigh,  in  announcing 
the  death  of  the  Chief-Justice. 

Therein  are  eulogized  his  "  unaffected  sim 
plicity  of  manner  ;  the  spotless  purity  of  his 
morals  ;  his  social,  gentle,  cheerful  disposition  ; 
his  habitual  self-denial  and  boundless  generos 
ity."  He  is  declared  to  have  been  "  exemplary 
in  the  relations  of  son,  brother,  husband,  and 
father." 

"  Exemplary "  is  hardly  the  adjective  we 
would  employ  after  reading  what  was  written 
in  his  locked  study  on  the  first  anniversary  of 
his  "  Polly's"  departure. 

" December  z$,  1832. 

"  This  day  of  joy  and  festivity  to  the  whole 
Christian  world  is,  to  my  sad  heart,  the  anni 
versary  of  the  keenest  affliction  which  human- 


102       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ity  can  sustain.  While  all  around  is  gladness, 
my  mind  dwells  on  the  silent  tomb,  and  cher 
ishes  the  remembrance  of  the  beloved  object 
it  contains. 

"  On  the  25th  of  December,  1831,  it  was  the 
will  of  Heaven  to  take  to  itself  the  companion 
who  had  sweetened  the  choicest  part  of  my 
life,  had  rendered  toil  a  pleasure,  had  par 
taken  of  all  my  feelings,  and  was  enthroned  in 
the  inmost  recesses  of  my  heart.  Never  can 
I  cease  to  feel  the  loss  and  deplore  it.  Grief 
for  her  is  too  sacred  ever  to  be  profaned  on 
this  day,  which  shall  be,  during  my  existence, 
devoted  to  her  memory.  .  .  . 

"  I  saw  her  the  week  she  had  attained  the 
age  of  fourteen,  and  was  greatly  pleased  with 
her.  Girls  then  came  into  company  much 
earlier  than  at  present.  As  my  attentions, 
'though  without  any  avowed  purpose,  nor  so 
open  or  direct  as  to  alarm,  soon  became  evi 
dent  and  assiduous,  her  heart  received  an 
impression  which  could  never  be  effaced. 
Having  felt  no  prior  attachment,  she  became, 
at  sixteen,  a  most  devoted  wife.  All  my  faults, 
and  they  were  too  many,  could  never  weaken 
this  sentiment.  It  formed  a  part  of  her  exist 
ence.  Her  judgment  was  so  sound  and  so 


The  Marshall  House 


103 


deep  that  I  have  often  relied  upon  it  in  situa 
tions  of  some  perplexity.  I  do  not  recollect 
once  to  have  regretted  the  adoption  of  her 
opinion.  I  have  sometimes  regretted  its 
rejection." 


V 


CLIVEDEN 

HPHE  New  World  of  the  American  Colonies 
was  as  blessed  a  godsend  to  the  cadets  of 
noble  English  houses  two  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago  as  are  Australia,  India,  and  Canada 
to-day. 

Nearly  every  one  of  our  "  old  families  "  that 
has  preserved  a  genealogical  tree,  may  discern 
the  beginning  of  its  line  in  a  twig  that  grew 
well  toward  the  terminal  tip  of  the  bough. 

Already,'  careers  that  led  to  fortune  and 
renown  were  becoming  scarce  in  the  mother 
country.  The  rich  unclaimed  spaciousness  of 
the  El  Dorado  across  the  sea  attracted,  in 
equal  measure,  the  prudent  and  the  ambitious. 

John  Chew,  merchant,  the  younger  son  of 
a  Somersetshire  family  of  the  same  name, 
sailed  from  England  with  Sarah,  his  wife,  in 


104 


Cliveden  105 

the  Seaflower  in  1622,  and  was  received  with 
open  arms  by  those  of  his  own  name  and 
blood,  who  had,  a  year  earlier,  settled  in 
Virginia.  Hogg  Island  (now 
"  Homewood")  a  little  be 
low  Jamestown,  in  the 
widening  James  River,  is 
said  to  have  been  the  place 
of  landing.  His  name  oc- 

•,  r  1  i          CHEW  COAT  OF  ARMS. 

curs  in  several  grants  of  land 
by,  and  memorials  addressed  to,  the  parent 
government  in  1642-4,  and  as  a  member 
of  the  Honorable  House  of  Burgesses  of  the 
Colony  of  Virginia,  yearly,  from  1623-43,  a 
protracted  period  of  service,  which  is  silent 
testimony  to  personal  probity  and  official 
ability.  His  term  of  office  embraced  the 
latter  part  of  the  reign  of  James  I.  whose  death 
his  loving  colonists  mourned  in  1625,  and 
almost  the  whole  of  that  of  his  unhappy 
successor. 

StrafTord  and  Laud  had  perished  on  the 
scaffold,  and  Charles  I.  had  departed  from 
London  upon  the  seven  years  of  conflict  and 
captivity  that  were  to  end  in  the  shadow  of 
Whitehall,  January  30,  1649,  when  the  thriving 
merchant,  against  the  will  of  Governor  Berke- 


io6      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ley,  removed  to  Maryland.  The  earliest  date 
of  the  exodus  given  is  1643.  John  Chew  was, 
therefore,  one  of  the  body  that  listened  to  the 
comfortable  words  conveyed  in  the  king's 
letter,  "Given  at  our  Court  of  York  the  $th  of 
July,  1642." 

In  this  instrument,  drawn  up  by  the  king's 
secretary,  on  the  eve  of  the  grand  rebellion, 
the  sovereign  engages  not  to  restore  the  de 
tested  Virginia  Company  to  their  rule  over  the 
colony,  and  expresses  the  royal  approval  of 
"  your  acknowledgments  of  our  great  bounty 
and  favors  toward  you,  and  your  so  earnest 
desire  to  continue  under  our  immediate  pro 
tection." 

When  the  head  of  his  royal  master  rolled 
on  the  scaffold,  John  Chew,  who  appears,  from 
the  hints  transmitted  to  us  of  his  individual 
traits,  to  have  been  of  a  provident  and  pacific 
turn  of  mind,  was  living  upon  the  extensive 
estate  deeded  to  him  in  the  province  of  Mary 
land,  the  original  bulk  of  which  was  swollen  by 
five  hundred  acres,  paid  for  in  tobacco,  at  the 
rate  of  ten  pounds  of  the  Virginia  weed  per 
acre. 

His  eldest  son,  Samuel  Chew,  made  a  will 
before  his  death  in  1676,  bequeathing  most  of 


Cliveden  107 

the  "  Town  of  Herrington,"  with  other  prop 
erties,  including  "  Negroes,  able-bodied  Eng 
lishmen,  and  hogsheads  of  tobacco,"  to  his 
heirs.  His  Quaker  wife,  Anne  Chew,  n£e 
Ayres,  was  his  executrix.  Her  son,  Dr.  Sam 
uel  Chew,  removed,  in  mature  manhood,  to 
Dover,  then  included  in  the  Province  of  Penn 
sylvania. 

Anne  Ayres  had  brought  the  whole  family 
over  to  her  peaceful  faith,  and  Dr.  Samuel 
(also  known  as  Judge)  Chew  remained  a 
member  of  the  Society  of  Friends  until  the 
celebrated  battle  in  the  Assembly  of  Pennsyl 
vania  over  the  Governor's  recommendation  of 
a  Militia  Law.  When  this  was  passed,  the 
Quaker  members  of  the  legislative  body  ap 
pealed  to  the  court  over  which  Samuel  Chew 
presided  as  Chief-Justice.  With  promptness 
that  smacks  of  un-Friend-like  indignation,  they 
proceeded  to  expel  him  "  from  meeting"  upon 
his  decision  that  "  self-defense  was  not  only 
lawful,  but  obligatory  upon  God's  citizens." 

He  may  not  have  regretted  the  act  of  ex 
cision,  so  far  as  it  affected  himself.  His  pub 
lished  commentary  upon  the  temper  it  evinced 
is  spirited  to  raciness.  In  it  he  declares  the 
"  Bulls  of  Excommunication "  of  his  late 


io8      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

brethren  to  be  ''  as  full-fraught  with  fire  and 
brimstone  and  other  church  artillery,  as  even 
those  of  the  Pope  of  Rome." 

In  a  charge  to  the  Grand  Jury,  delivered 
shortly  after  the  publication  of  this  philippic, 
he  says  of  his  belief  that,  in  his  public  acts  he 
was  "  accountable  to  His  Majesty  alone,  and 
subject  to  no  other  control  than  the  laws  of  the 
land," 

"  I  am  mistaken,  it  seems,  and  am  account 
able  for  what  I  shall  transact  in  the  King's 
Courts  to  a  paltry  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction 
that  calls  itself  a  '  Monthly  Meeting.'  '  Tell 
it  not  in  Gath,  publish  it  not  in  Askelon ' ! " 

Benjamin  Chew,  the  eldest  son  of  the  pugna 
cious  and  deposed  Quaker,  was  born  in 
November,  1722.  His  profession  was  the  law, 
and  he  rose  rapidly  to  eminence.  Prior  to 
his  removal  to  Philadelphia  in  1754,  at  the  age 
of  thirty-two,  he  was  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Delegates  at  Dover,  Delaware.  In  1755  he 
became  Attorney-General  of  the  State  of 
Pennsylvania;  in  1756,  Recorder  of  the  City 
of  Philadelphia;  in  1774,  Chief-Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Pennsylvania. 

His  diplomatic  yet  decisive  reply  to  one 
who,  seeking  to  convict  him  of  Toryism, 


io9 


CHIEF-JUSTICE  BENJAMIN  CHEW. 

FROM  THE  ORIGINAL    PAINTING    IN  THE  NATIONAL  MUSEUM,   PHILA. 


Cliveden  1 1 1 

pushed  him  for  a  definition  of  high  treason, 
is  historic  : 

"  Opposition  by  force  of  arms,  to  the  lawful  authority 
of  the  King  or  his  Ministers,  is  High  Treason.  £ut"- 
[turning  an  unblenching  front  to  those  who  tried  to 
entangle  him  in  his  talk] — "  in  the  moment  when  the 
King  or  his  Ministers  shall  exceed  the  Constitutional 
authority  vested  in  them  by  the  Constitution — submis 
sion  to  their  mandate  becomes  Treason  ! " 

Despite  this  doughty  deliverance,  his  judi 
cial  qualms  as  to  expediency  of  overt  rebellion 
cost  him  his  liberty  in  17/7.  Fourteen  years 
earlier  he  had  bought  land  on  what  is  known 
as  the  Old  Germantown  Road,  erected  upon 
a  commanding  site  a  fine  stone  mansion,  and 
given  to  the  estate  the  name  of  Cliveden. 
Up  to  the  date  of  the  erection  of  this  dwell 
ing  he  resided  winter  and  summer  on  Third 
Street,  below  Walnut,  in  the  City  of  Phila 
delphia.  Washington  and  John  Adams  dined 
together  with  him  there  while  Congress  sat  in 
Philadelphia,  in  1774.  Mr.  Adams's  letter 
relative  to  the  "  turtle,  flummery,  and  Ma 
deira  "  of  the  banquet  is  well  known. 

Neither  congressional  nor  military  influence 
availed  against  the  sentence  that  sent  the 


ii2       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

stately  host  and  his  friend,  John  Penn,  under 
arrest  to  Fredericksburg,  Virginia,  for  recu 
sancy,  in  that  they  refused  to  sign  a  parole  not 
to  interfere  with,  or  impede  in  any  manner,  the 
course  of  the  new  Government.  Subse 
quently,  the  exile  was  rendered  more  toler 
able  by  permission  to  sojourn  during  the 
remaining  term  of  banishment  at  the  Union 
Iron  Works,  owned  by  Mr.  Chew,  in  the 
vicinity  of  Burlington,  N.  J.  In  1778  came 
an  imperative  order  from  Congress  for  the 
rehabilitation  of  the  two  eminent,  and,  it  was 
believed,  unjustly  suspected,  citizens. 

A  "  biographical  memoir "  of  Benjamin 
Chew  published  in  1811,  thus  defines  and 
justifies  the  position  he  maintained  through 
out  the  contest  between  the  Colonies  and  the 
Parent  Country. 

"  His  object  was  reform,  rather  than  revolution — 
redress  of  grievances,  rather  than  independence.  Ac 
cordingly,  when  the  question  of  an  entire  separation  of 
the  colonies  from  the  British  empire  began  to  be  first 
agitated  in  private  meetings,  he  was  opposed  to  the 
measure,  and  when,  at  length,  independence  was  de 
clared,  he  thought  the  step  precipitate  and  rash.  Nor 
could  any  consideration  of  interest,  policy,  or  ambition 
induce  him,  after  that  epoch,  to  aid  by  his  counsels 
proceedings  which  were  contrary  to  the  decisions  of  his 


Cliveden  113 

judgment,  and,  perhaps,  I  may  add,  to  the  affections  of 
his  heart.     .     .     . 

"  As  an  apology  for  Mr.  Chew's  opposition  to  the  pol 
icy  of  independence  when  first  declared,  we  might 
adduce  the  example  of  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
orators  and  statesmen  of  the  day,  whose  dislike  of  the 
measure  was  no  less  strong  and  notorious  than  his. 
The  only  difference  which  marked  their  conduct  on 
the  occasion  was  that  he  perseveringly  retained  his 
original  impressions,  while  they,  more  pliable,  and  per 
haps  more  prudent,  changed  with  the  current  of  public 
opinion." 

In  the  absence  of  the  master,  Cliveden  had 
seen  strange  things.  Early  on  the  morning 
of  October  4,  1777,  the  American  troops  in 
pursuit  of  the  retreating  enemy,  who  had  aban 
doned  tents  and  baggage  at  Wayne's  impetu 
ous  charge,  were  surprised  as  they  pressed 
down  the  Germantown  Road,  by  a  brisk  fire 
of  musketry  from  the  windows  of  Cliveden. 
A  hurried  council  of  war,  collected  about  the 
Commander-in-chief,  acting  upon  General 
Knox's  dictum  that  "  it  was  unmilitary  to 
leave  a  garrisoned  castle  in  their  rear,"  sent 
an  officer  with  a  flag  of  truce  to  demand  a  sur 
render.  He  was  fired  upon  and  killed.  Can 
non,  were  planted  in  the  road,  and  a  steady 
fire  with  six-pounders  opened  upon  the  thick 


ii4      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

walls.  The  balls  rebounded  like  pebbles. 
The  lower  windows  were  closed  and  barred. 
The  six  companies  of  British  soldiers  that  had 
occupied  the  building  sent  volley  after  volley 
from  the  gratings  of  the  cellars  and  from 
the  second  story.  The  gallant  Chevalier  de 
Maudit,  scarcely  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
and  Colonel  Laurens,  also  in  the  prime  of 
early  manhood,  forced  a  window  at  the  back 
and,  ordering  their  men  to  pile  straw  and  hay 
against  the  door  and  fire  it,  leaped  into  a 
room  on  the  ground  floor.  They  were  re 
ceived  by  a  pistol-shot  that  wounded  Laurens 
in  the  shoulder,  while  a  second,  aimed  at  de 
Maudit,  killed  the  English  officer  who  had 
rushed  forward  to  arrest  him.  Finding  them 
selves  alone  among  foes,  the  command  to  fire 
and  force  the  door  not  having  been  obeyed, 
the  intrepid  youths  retreated  backward  to  the 
window  by  which  they  had  entered,  dropped 
to  the  ground,  and  made  their  way  to 
their  comrades,  under  a  hot  hail  of  bullets. 
To  the  delay  occasioned  by  the  short,  unsuc 
cessful  siege  of  Cliveden  is  generally  attrib 
uted  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Germantown  to 
the  Americans.  But  at  least  one  historian  is 
disposed  to  regard  it 


Cliveden  115 

^  as  another  manifestation  of  the  Divine  interposition 
in  behalf  of  these  States.  If  General  Washington  had 
met  with  no  obstacle,  he  would,  under  the  thickness 
of  the  fog,  have  closed  with  the  main  body  of  the 
enemy  before  he  could  have  been  apprised  of  its  prox 
imity,  and  thus  his  centre  and  a  part  of  his  left  wing 
would  have  been  committed  to  a  general  action  with  the 
whole  British  army." 

A  descendant  of  the  house  of  Chew  puts  a 
different  face  upon  this  affair  :l 

"  General  Washington  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
family,  and,  at  the  battle  of  Germantown,  when  Cliveden 
was  occupied  by  a  detachment  of  British  troops,  insist 
ing  that  he  was  familiar  with  every  part  of  the  house, 
he  mistook  for  English  intrenchments  an  addition  which 
had  been  put  up  since  his  last  visit  and  ordered  his  men 
to  fire  into  the  house,  shattering  the  doors  and  windows." 

The  judicial  reader  can  select  what  appears 
to  him  the  more  probable  and  consistent 
version  of  the  incident.  The  old  doors  are 
exhibited  as  a  proof  that  there  was  an  attack 
from  without.  They  were  so  battered  by 
bullets  that  new  ones  had  to  be  put  into  the 
ancient  frames. 

Another  and  more  precious  relic  of  that 
stormy  period  is  a  small  pamphlet  containing  an 

1  Mrs.  Sophia  Howard  Ward  in  77ie  Century  Magazine  for 
March,  1894. 


n6      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

account  of  the  "  Mischianza,"  a  pageant  u  com- 
bining  the  modern  parade  with  the  mediaeval 
tournament,"  given  as  a  farewell  entertain 
ment  on  May  18,  1778,  in  honor  of  Sir  Wil 
liam  Howe,  then  commanding  the  British 
troops  in  America.  The  narrative  was  written 
by  Major  Andre,  a  favored  guest  at  Cliveden. 
The  four  daughters  of  Judge  Chew  were 
celebrated  for  their  beauty.  Margaret,  popu 
larly  known  as  "  pretty  Peggy,"  was  the 
especial  object  of  the  young  officer's  admira 
tion. 

Her  great-granddaughter  sets  the  souvenir 
vividly  before  us,  with  the  picture  of  the  writer 
.who  was  Peggy's  knight  in   the  combination 
"show." 

"  Faded  and  yellow  with  age,  the  little  parchment 
vividly  calls  up  before  us  the  gallant  young  English  of 
ficer,  eager  and  full  of  keen  interest,  throwing  himself 
with  youthful  ardor,  with  light-hearted  seriousness,  into 
this  bit  of  superb  frivolity.  On  the  cover  he  has  outlined 
a  wreath  of  leaves  around  the  initials  '  P.  C.,'  and  he 
has  made  a  water-color  sketch  to  show  the  design  and 
colors  of  his  costume  as  a  knight  of  the  '  Blended  Rose,' 
and  that  of  his  brother,  Lieutenant  William  Lewis  Andre, 
who  acted  as  his  esquire  and  bore  his  shield  with  its 
quaint  motto,  *  No  rival.'  The  device,  *  Two  game 
cocks  fighting,'  must  have  proved  too  difficult  to  draw, 


Cliveden 


117 


for  he  uses   in  his  picture  that  of   Captain  Watson — a 
heart  and  a  wreath  of  laurel,  '  Love  and  Glory.'  " 

A  part  in  the  "  Mischianza"  was  allotted  to 
Margaret  Shippen,  the  betrothed,  and   shortly 


" PEGGY"  CHEW. 


afterward  the  wife  of  Benedict  Arnold.  At 
the  last  moment  her  father,  Chief- Justice 
Shippen,  forbade  her  appearance. 


n8       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Among  the  mementoes  of  Andre's  memor 
able  sojourn  at  Cliveden  are  several  poems 
(by  courtesy),  addressed  by  him  to  his  fair 
friend.  Chancing  to  see  her  walking  in  the 
orchard,  "  under  green  apple  boughs,"  he 
dashed  off  this  impromptu  : 

'*  The  Hebrews  write  and  those  who  can 
Believe  an  apple  tempted  man 
To  touch  the  tree  exempt  ; 
Tho'  tasted  at  a  vast  expense, 
'T  was  too  delicious  to  the  sense, 
Not  mortally  to  tempt. 

But  had  the  tree  of  knowledge  bloomed, 
Its  branches  by  much  fruit  perfumed, 
As  here  enchants  my  view — 
What  mortal  Adam's  taste  could  blame? 
Who  would  not  die  to  eat  the  same, 
When  gods  might  wish  a  Chew?  " 

From  Andre's  brochure  we  learn  in  what 
guise  "  Miss  P.  Chew," — opposite  whose  name 
on  the  programme  stand  those  of  "  Captin 
Andre  26th"  and  "Esq.  Mr.  Andre  ;th  " 
captivated  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  on  that 
day  : 

"  The  ladies  selected  from  the  foremost  in  youth, 
beauty  and  fashion,  were  habited  in  fancy  dresses.  They 
wore  gauze  Turbans  spangled  and  edged  with  gold  or 


Cliveden  119 

Silver,  on  the  right  side  a  veil  of  the  same  kind  hung 
as  lo\v  as  the  waist,  and  the  left  side  of  the  Turban 
was  enriched  with  pearl  and  tassels  of  gold  or  Silver  & 
crested  with  a  feather.  The  dress  was  of  the  polonaise 
Kind  and  of  white  Silk  with  long  sleeves,  the  Sashes 
which  were  worn  round  the  waist  and  were  tied  with 
a  large  bow  on  the  left  side  hung  very  low  and  were 
trimmed  spangled  and  fringed  according  to  the  Colours 
of  the  Knight.  The  Ladies  of  the  black  Champions 
were  on  the  right,  those  of  the  white  on  the  left." 

He  wrote  to  her  at  parting  : 

"  If  at  the  close  of  war  and  strife, 

My  destiny  once  more 
Should  in  the  various  paths  of  life, 
Conduct  me  to  this  shore  ; 

Should  British  banners  guard  the  land, 

And  faction  be  restrained  ; 
And  Cliveden's  peaceful  mansion  stand 

No  more  with  blood  bestained  ; 
Say,  wilt  thou  then  receive  again 

And  welcome  to  thy  sight, 
The  youth  who  bids  with  stifled  pain 

His  sad  farewell  to-night?" 

Major  Andre  was  a  brave  man,  and  as  un 
fortunate  as  brave  ;  but  in  perusing  this  senti 
mental  jingle,  and  hearing  of  the  drawing  in 
the  possession  of  the  Baltimore  Howards,  in 
which  his  own  portrait  in  water-colors  is 


120      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

sketched  in  the  character  of  Miss  Peggy 
Chew's  knight,  and  "  humbly-inscribed "  to 
her,  "  by  her  most  devoted  Knight  and  Ser 
vant,  J.  A.  Knt,  Bd.  Re.,  Philadelphia,  June 
2,  1778,"  we  may  be  permitted  a  sighful 
thought  of  Honora  Sneyd  keeping  the  vestal 
fires  of  love  and  memory  alight  in  her  heart 
for  her  absent,  and  soon-to-be-dead  lover. 

The  fair  Peggy  did  not  pine  in  virgin  love 
liness  for  the  handsome  youth  whose  "sad 
farewell "  acquires  dignity  not  of  itself,  in  the 
recollection  of  the  brief  path  of  life  that  re 
mained  to  him  after  this  was  penned.  With 
the  buoyancy  of  a  happy  temperament,  and 
hopefulness  engendered  by  past  triumphs,  our 
belle  thus  moralizes  in  the  letter  expressive  of 
her  regret  for  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia 
by  the  gay  and  chivalric  officers  : 

"  What  is  life,  in  short,  but  one  continued 
scene  of  pain  and  pleasure,  varied  and  chec- 
quered  with  black  spots  like  the  chess-board, 
only  to  set  the  fair  ones  in  a  purer  light  ? 

"  What  a  mixture  of  people  have  I  lately 
seen  ! "  she  writes  further.  "  I  like  to  have 
something  to  say  to  all." 

She  evidently  especially  liked  to  say  a  good 
many  somethings  to  the  pink  of  chivalry 


Cliveden  121 

whose  untimely  taking-off  was  mourned  by 
two  continents.  Combining  our  knowledge 
of  the  catholicity  of  the  accomplished  Major's 
admiration  for  beauty,  wherever  found,  with 
Miss  Peggy's  willingness  to  be  amused  and 
adored,  and  her  "  high  relish  for  pleasure," 
we  may  reasonably  assume  that  in  the  pretty 
routine  of  ball,  tournament  and  masque  which 
made  the  winter  of  1778  memorable  to  the 
"  upper  ten  "  of  the  city  of  genealogies,  it  was 
diamond  cut  diamond  between  them. 

There  was  a  brilliant  wedding  in  the  town- 
house  on  South  Third  Street  in  1787.  Mis 
tress  Margaret  had  queened  it  bravely  for 
ten  years  in  the  foremost  rank  of  fashionable 
society  before  she  bestowed  her  hand  upon 
the  accomplished  gentleman  and  warrior, 
Colonel  John  Eager  Howard  of  Baltimore. 
Distinguished  among  the  high-born  company 
assembled  to  grace  the  nuptials  was  General 
Washington,  then  President  of  the  Conven 
tion  that  formed  the  Constitution  of  these 
United  States.  The  host,  Chief-Justice  Chew, 
was,  as  has  been  said,  a  warm  personal  friend 
of  the  Commander-in-Chief  and  President, 
mutual  regard  that  continued  as  long  as  they 
both  lived. 


122       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

We  do  not  wonder — the  wonder  would  be 
if  the  reverse  were  true — that  pretty  Peggy 
always  kept  a  sure  place  on  the  sunny  side  of 
her  heart  for  the  ill-starred  knight  who  wore 
her  colors  in  the  "  Mischianza"  and  beguiled 
so  many  hours  of  possible  ennui.  The  docu 
ment  descriptive  of  the  merry-making  was 
sacredly  cherished  by  her  while  she  lived,  and 
formally  bequeathed  to  her  daughter,  Mrs. 
William  Read  of  Baltimore.  It  was  quite 
as  natural  that  her  husband,  loyal  to  the  back 
bone  to  the  National  cause,  should,  now  and 
then,  grow  restive  under  her  sentimental  remin 
iscences.  To  borrow  again  from  the  sprightly 
narrative  of  her  great-granddaughter  : 

"  Nine  years  after  the  '  Mischianza,'  when  she  had 
married  Colonel  John  Eager  Howard,  the  hero  of 
Cowpens,  she  still  loved  to  dwell  upon  Major  Andre's 
charms,  which  frequently  irritated  her  patriotic  husband. 
Once,  sitting  at  the  head  of  her  table  at  Belvidere,  her 
home  in  Baltimore,  entertaining  some  distinguished 
foreigners,  she  said,  '  Major  Andre  was  a  most  witty 
and  cultivated  gentleman  '  ;  whereupon  Colonel  Howard 

interrupted  sternly,  '  He  was  a spy,  sir  ;  nothing  but 

a spy  ! '  ' 

Cliveden,  battered  and  scorched  by  the 
short,  sharp  siege  of  that  October  morning, 


I23 


COLONEL  JOHN   EAGER   HOWARD. 

FROM  A  PAINTING  BY  CHESTER   HARDING. 


Cliveden  125 

was  sold  by  Mr.  Chew  in  1779  to  Blair 
McClenachan.  In  1797,  ten  years  after  pretty 
Peggy's  wedding,  her  father  bought  back 
his  country-seat.  It  was  in  little  better  con 
dition  than  when  Mr.  McClenachan  purchased 
it,  yet,  in  his  desire  to  regain  possession,  Mr. 
Chew  nearly  trebled  the  amount  he  had 
received  for  it. 

Benjamin  Chew  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
seven,  Jan.  20,  1810.  The  last  public  office 
held  by  him  was  that  of  President-Judge  of 
the  High  Court  of  Errors  and  Appeals  ;  a 
trust  retained  for  fifteen  years,  and  resigned 
when  he  was  eighty-three. 

His  only  son,  Benjamin  Chew,  Jr.,  had  but 
a  twelfth  part  of  the  princely  estate  left  by 
the  father,  there  being  eleven  daughters. 
Coming  of  a  race  of  lawyers,  he  studied  his 
profession,  first  in  Philadelphia,  then  in  Eng 
land.  In  1825,  during  Lafayette's  visit  to 
America,  he  held  a  grand  reception  at  the 
Germantown  residence  of  the  eminent  jurist, 
who  had  then  retired  from  the  active  duties 
of  professional  life. 

Mr.  Chew  died  April  30,  1844,  at  the  ad 
vanced  age  of  eighty-five. 

In  a  hale  old  age  Cliveden  stands,  unmoved 


i26      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

by  the  fast-changing  scenes  about  her.  The 
walls  are  of  rough  gray  stone  ;  the  entrance 
is  guarded  by  marble  lions,  blinded  and 
defaced  by  a^e.  To  the  ri^ht  and  left  of 

J          o  o 

the  pillars  dividing  the  stately  hall  from  the 
staircase,  hang  full-length  family  portraits, 
older  than  the  house.  The  iron  hail  that 
scarred  the  facade  of  the  mansion,  left  traces, 
like  the  writing  of  doom,  upon  the  inner  walls. 

The  day  of  our  visit  to  the  ancient  home 
stead  was  bleak  with  wintry  storm.  The  fine 
trees  on  the  lawn  bent  and  dripped  with  the 
heavy  weight  of  rain.  The  four  windows  of 
the  great  drawing-room  showed  little  with 
out  except  the  gray  pall  wavering  between 
us  and  the  nearest  houses.  In  the  chimney 
burned  a  fire,  the  welcoming  glow  of  which 
prepared  us  for  the  reception  accorded  to  the 
stranger  within  her  gates  by  the  gracious 
gentlewoman  who  arose  from  the  sofa  at  our 
entrance.  In  a  ripe  old  age  that  had  not 
benumbed  heart  or  mind,  Miss  Anne  Penn 
Chew,  the  then  owner  of  Cliveden,  was  a  pict 
uresque  figure  of  whom  I  would  fain  say  more 
than  the  restrictions  of  this  chapter  warrant. 

Over  the  mantel  is  the  portrait  of  her  father, 
of  whom  it  is  written  that  "  he  led  a  blameless 


Cliveden  129 

life  of  princely  hospitality  and  benevolence, 
doing  good.  ...  He  was  a  firm  friend,  an 
indulgent  father  and  an  elegant  gentleman  of 
polished  manners,  singular  symmetry  of  form 
and  feature,  and  great  strength."  Antique 
mirrors,  in  carved  frames,  that  once  belonged 
to  William  Penn,  hang  between  the  windows 
and  in  a  recess  by  the  mantel. 

The  dining-room  across  the  hall  has  a  cav 
ernous  fireplace  which  recalls  the  generous  hos 
pitality  of  former  years.  Miss  Chew  related, 
as  we  lingered  to  admire  it,  that  the  collation 
served  at  the  Lafayette  reception  was  laid  in 
the  drawing-room,  and  that  the  painter  of  the 
scene  sacrificed  historical  verity  to  artistic  effect 
in  setting  the  principal  actors  between  the  pillars 
of  the  hall  with  the  staircase  as  a  background. 

The  old  Chew  coach  occupies  the  farthest 
corner  of  the  carriage-house.  It  is  roomy  be 
yond  the  compass  of  the  modern  imagination, 
and  is  swun^  so  hio-h  from  the  ground  that  one 

£•>  o  o 

is  helped  to  a  comprehension  of  the  upsettings 
and  overturnings  that  enter  so  frequently  and 
naturally  into  the  stories  of  that  time. 

In  the  back  wall  of  the  kitchen,  built  into  a 
niche  of  solid  masonry,  is  an  old  well.  This 
part  of  the  house  was  standing  on  the  ground 


1 30      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

bought  by  Judge  Chew  in  1763.  Tradition 
has  it  that  the  well  was  dug  in  the  recess,  which 
could,  at  short  notice,  be  enclosed  with  heavy 
doors,  in  order  to  secure  a  supply  of  water 
within  the  dwelling  if  it  were  attacked  by  In 
dians. 

Mr.  Beverly  Chew,  the  scholarly  President 
of  the  Grolier  Club  of  New  York  City,  and 
eminent  as  a  book-lover  and  collector  of  rare 
prints  and  priceless  "  first  editions,"  is  de 
scended  from  the  ancient  stock  through  Joseph 
Chew,  a  younger  brother  of  the  immigrant, 
John.  Every  vestige  of  the  dwelling  built  by 
the  latter  upon  the  fertile  island  in  the  James 
River  has  disappeared,  but  the  site  is  still 
pointed  out  to  the  curious  visitor. 


CHEW  COACH. 


VI 


THE  MORRIS  HOUSE,  GERMANTOWN, 
(PHILADELPHIA) 

HISTORIAN,  painter,  and  poet  have  made 
familiar  to  us  the  story  of  the  imprisoned 
Huguenot,  condemned  to  die  from  starvation, 
who  was  kept  alive  by  the  seeming  accident 
that  a  hen  laid  an  egg  daily  on  the  sill  of  his 
orated  window. 

o 

From  this  French  Perot  descended  Elliston 
Perot  Morris,  the  present  proprietor  of  the  old 
house  on  the  Germantown  Road,  which  is  the 
subject  of  this  sketch. 

It  was  built  in  1772  by  a  German,  David 
Deshler,  long  and  honorably  known  as  a  Phila 
delphia  merchant.  A  pleasant  story  goes  that 
the  facade  of  the  solid  stone  mansion  would 
have  been  broader  by  some  feet  had  the  sylvan 
tastes  of  the  owner  allowed  him  to  fell  a  fine 
plum-tree  that  grew  to  the  left  of  the  proposed 


i32       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

site.  The  garden  was  the  marvel  of  the  region 
during  his  occupancy  of  the  country-seat,  and 
was  flanked  by  thrifty  orchards  and  vineyards. 
At  Deshler's  death  in  i  792,  the  Germantown 
estate  passed  into  the  hands  of  Colonel  Isaac 
Franks,  an  officer  who  had  served  in  the  Rev 
olutionary  War.  He  had  owned  it  but  a  year, 
when  the  yellow  fever  broke  out  in  Philadel 
phia,  then  the  seat  of  the  National  Govern 
ment.  Colonel  Franks  with  his  family  retreated 
hurriedly  to  the  higher  ground  and  protecting 
mountain-barrier  of  Bethlehem,  although  Ger 
mantown  was  considered  a  safe  refuge  by  the 
citizens  of  Philadelphia.  Shortly  after  the 
Franks's  flitting,  the  Colonel  received  a  visit 

C> " 

from  President  Washington's  man  of  affairs,  a 
vGermantown  citizen.  He  was  charged  with  an 
offer  to  rent  the  commodious  residence  on  the 
Old  Road  for  the  use  of  the  President  and  his 
family.  The  patriotic  cordiality  with  which 
the  retired  officer  granted  the  request  did  not 
•carry  him  beyond  the  bounds  of  careful  frugal 
ity.  He  made  minute  mention  in  his  expense- 
book  of  the  cost  of  sweeping  and  garnishing 
the  house  for  the  reception  of  the  distinguished 
guests,  also  of  "  cash  paid  for  cleaning  my 
house  and  putting  it  in  the  same  condition  the 


The  Morris  House  135 

President  received  it  in."  This  last  bill  was 
two  dollars  and  thirty  cents. 

From  this  account-book  we  learn  what  were 
the  expenses  of  transportation  of  Colonel 
Franks  and  family,  back  and  forth  to  Bethle 
hem,  and  what  was  paid  for  the  hired  furnished 
lodgings  in  the  mountain  village.  There  were 
lost  during  the  summer  of  exile  (presumably 
under  Lady  Washington's  administration), 
"  one  flat-iron,  value  is.,  one  large  fork,  four 
plates,  three  ducks,  four  fowls,"  and  consumed 
or  wasted  by  the  temporary  tenants,  "  one 
bushel  potatoes  and  one  cwt.  of  hay." 

Those  items  swelled  the  sum  expended  for 
removals  and  hire  of  Bethlehem  quarters  and 
the  rent  received  for  Germantown  premises  to 

$13106. 

The  President,  his  wife,  and  their  adopted 
children,  George  Washington  Parke  Custis  and 
Nelly  Custis,  lived  in  health  and  peace  in  sub 
urban  quarters  during  the  summer  of  the  pesti 
lence.  The  boy  went  to  school  at  the  Old 
Academy.  The  grounds  of  the  school  ad 
joined  those  of  what  was  still  known  as  the 
Deshler  Place.  A  few  days  after  the  transfer 
of  the  Executive  party  from  town  to  country, 
a  group  of  boys  playing  on  the  pavement  in 


136      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

front  of  the  Academy  parted  to  left  and  right, 
cap  in  hand,  before  a  majestic  figure  that 
paused  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 

"  Where  is  George  Washington  Parke  Cus- 
tis  ? "  demanded  the  General. 

Charles  Wister,  a  Germantown  boy,  plucked 
up  courage  and  voice,  and  told  where  the  great 
man's  ward  might  be  found. 

Another  pupil  in  the  Academy,  Jesse  Wain, 
whose  home  was  in  Frankford,  accompanied 
Parke  Custis  from  school  one  afternoon,  and 
played  with  him  in  the  garden,  until  General 
Washington  came  out  of  the  back  door,  and 
bade  his  adopted  son  "  come  in  to  tea,  and 
bring  his  young  friend  with  him."  Nearly 
three  quarters  of  a  century  afterward,  an  old 
man  asked  permission,  upon  revisiting  Ger 
mantown,  to  go  into  the  tea-  or  breakfast-room, 
back  of  the  parlors  in  the  Morris  house,  and 
sitting  down  there  recalled  each  incident  of 
the  never-to-be-forgotten  "  afternoon  out." 
The  grave  kindness  of  the  head  of  the  house 
hold,  the  sweet  placidity  of  the  mistress,  and 
the  merry  school-fellow  whose  liking  had  won 
for  him  this  distinguished  honor, — this  is  the 
picture  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  Mr. 
Wain's  reminiscences. 


The  Morris  House  137 

The  hegira  from  Philadelphia  must  have 
taken  place  early  in  the  spring,  for  Lady 
Washington  pleased  herself  and  interested  her 
neighbors,  by  raising  hyacinths  under  globes 
of  cut  glass.  There  were  six  of  these,  and 
upon  her  return  to  Philadelphia,  she  gave  them 
to  the  young  daughter  of  the  deceased  David 
Deshler,  to  whom  she  had  taken  an  especial 
liking.  A  fragment  of  the  glass  is  still  treas 
ured  by  a  descendant  of  Catherine  Deshler. 

The  occupation  of  the  Morris  House  by  the 
President  and  his  family  is  the  incident  in  the 
history  of  the  homestead  which  abides  most 
vividly  with  us  as  we  pass  from  one  to  another 
of  rooms  which  are  scarcely  altered  from  what 
they  were  in  his  day.  The  walls  are  wain 
scoted  up  to  the  ceiling  ;  the  central  hall ;  the 
fine  staircase  at  the  right  ;  the  hinges  mortised 
into  the  massive  front-door ;  the  wrought-iron 
latch,  eighteen  inches  long,  that  falls  into  a 
stout  hasp  ;  the  partitions  and  low  ceilings  of 
the  spacious  chambers, — are  the  same  as  when 
the  floors  echoed  to  the  tread  of  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief,  and  ministers  of  state  and 
finance  discussed  the  weal  of  the  infant  nation 
with  him  who  will  never  cease  to  be  the  Na 
tion's  Hero. 


138       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

We  linger  longest  in  the  tea-room,  which  is 
the  coziest  of  the  suite.  The  wide-throated 
chimney  is  built  diagonally  across  one  corner  ; 
the  fireplace  is  surrounded  by  tiles  of  exceed 
ing  beauty  and  great  age.  In  another  corner, 


THE  COZIEST  OF   THE  SUITE.' 


on  the  same  side  of  the  room,  with  a  garden- 
ward  window  between  it  and  the  chimney,  is  a 
cupboard  which  was  also  here  in  i  793.  Behind 
the  glass  doors  of  this  cabinet  are  the  cup  and 
saucer  and  plate  of  old  India  blue  china,  which 


The  Morris  House  139 

were  used  on  the  evening  of  Jesse  Wain's 
visit,  with  other  choice  bits  of  bric-a-brac. 
The  rear  window,  opening-  now  upon  a  small 
conservatory,  then  gave  upon  a  long  grape- 
arbor,  running  far  clown  the  garden.  Between 
the  drawing-room  door  and  this  window — the 
fair,  extensive  pleasure-grounds,  sleeping  in  the 
afternoon  sunshine,  visible  to  all  at  the  table 
—the  Washingtons  took  their  "dish  of  tea" 
in  security,  shadowed  only  by  thoughts  of  the 
plague-stricken  city,  lying  so  near  as  to  sug 
gest  sadder  topics  than  the  sweet-hearted  host 
ess  would  willingly  introduce.  It  is  an  idyllic 
domestic  scene,  and  the  lovelier  for  the  cloudy 
background. 

o 

The  "pitcher-portrait"  of  Washington  in 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Morris  was  presented  to 
his  great-grandfather,  Governor  Samuel  Mor 
ris,  captain,  during  the  War  of  the  Revolution, 
of  the  First  City  Troop.  These  pitchers  were 
made  in  France,  and  were  tokens  of  the  dis 
tinguished  esteem  of  the  General  for  those 
honored  as  the  recipients.  The  likeness  was 
considered  so  far  superior  to  any  other  extant 
at  that  time,  that  an  order  for  duplicates  was 
sent  to  Paris  when  the  first  supply  was  given 
away.  Unfortunately,  the  model  had  been  de- 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

stroyed  after  the  original  requisition  was  filled, 
and  the  attempt  to  reproduce  the  design  was 
unsatisfactory  as  to  likeness  and  execution,  a 
circumstance  which  enhances  the  value  of  the 
originals. 

Mr.  Morris  justly  reckons  as  scarcely  second 
in  worth  to  this  beautiful  relic,  an  autograph 
letter  from  Washington  to  his  great-grand 
father,  Governor  Morris,  thanking  him  for  the 
gallant  service  rendered  in  the  War  of  Inde 
pendence  by  the  First  City  Troop. 


VII 

THE  SCHUYLER  AND  COLFAX  HOUSES, 
POMPTON,  NEW  JERSEY 

SIX  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  level; 
screened  by  two  mountain  ranges  from 
sea-fogs  and  shore  rawness  ;  watered  as  the 
garden  of  the  Lord  by  brooks,  brown  and 
brisk,  racing  down  from  the  hills — Pompton 
is  the  bonniest  nook  in  New  Jersey. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  said  of  the  plucky 
little  State,  that  the  trailing  arbutus,  fabled  to 
spring  from  the  blood  of  heroes,  grows  more 
luxuriantly  within  her  bounds  than  anywhere 
else.  Were  the  fantasy  aught  but  a  fable, 
Pompton  and  its  environs  would  be  overrun 
with  the  brave  daintiness  of  the  patriot's  flower. 

It  was  situated  on  the  King's  Highway,  be 
tween  New  York  and  Morristown,  and  the 
tide  of  war  ebbed  and  flowed  over  it  many 

141 


H2       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

times  during  the  fateful  years  of  the  Revolu 
tion.  In  a  small  yellow  house  that  stood, 
within  the  last  ten  years,  upon  a  corner-lot 
equidistant  from  the  Pompton  station  of  the 
Montclair  and  Greenwood  Lake  Railway,  and 
that  of  the  New  York,  Susquehanna  and  West 
ern,  Washington  had  his  headquarters  during 
his  progresses  to  and  from  Morristown.  I 
have  talked  with  old  people  who  recollected 
seeing  him  stand  in  the  rude  porch,  reviewing 
the  dusty  lines  of  troops  as  they  filed  by. 
Hooks,  that  once  supported  muskets,  were  in 
the  ceiling  of  the  "  stoop,"  and  the  floor  of 
the  largest  room  was  indented  by  much  ground 
ing  of  arms. 

The  beetling  brow  of  the  loftiest  of  the  lines 
of  hills  interlocking  the  cup-like  valley,  was  the 
observatory  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  on  sev 
eral  occasions,  and  bears,  in  memory  of  the  ma 
jestic  Presence,  the  name  of  "  Federal  Rock." 

In  Lord  Stirling's  forge,  the  foundations  of 
which  are  yet  stanch  in  the  adjacent  Wanaque 
Valley,  was  welded  the  mighty  chain  stretched 
by  Washington  across  the  Hudson  to  prevent 
the  passage  of  the  British  ships,  some  links  of 
which  are  still  to  be  seen  on  the  parade-ground 
at  West  Point. 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      145 

Upon  another  of  the  heights  forming  the 
amphitheatre  in  which  are  the  villages  of  Pomp- 
ton  and  Ramapo  Lake,  several  companies  of 
Federal  soldiers  mutinied  in  the  winter  of 
i  7  78-9.  They  had  had  no  pay  for  months  ;  the 
weather  was  severe  ;  rations  were  poor  in  qual 
ity  and  scanty,  and  their  hearts  were  wrung 
by  tidings  of  almost  starving  families  in  their 
distant  homes.  It  was  resolved  to  desert  the 
bleak  fastness,  disband,  and  return  to  their 
wives  and  children.  News  of  the  revolt  was 
sent  to  Washington  at  Morristown.  He  dis 
patched  the  American  General  Howe,  with  a 
body  of  troops,  to  quell  it.  The  insurgents 
were  surprised  and  surrounded,  and  yielded 
without  bloodshed  to  the  superior  force.  A 
court-martial  was  held — "standing  on  the 
snow,"  says  the  chronicle  with  unconscious 
pathos — and  two  of  the  ring-leaders  were  sen 
tenced  to  be  shot  by  their  comrades  and  fellow- 
offenders.  The  squad  detailed  for  the  purpose 
vainly  protested,  with  tears,  against  the  cruel 
office.  The  blindfolded  leaders  were  buried 
where  they  fell.  Their  graves  are  pointed  out 
to  the  visitor  who  climbs  to  the  site  of  the 
forest-camp.  Cellars  lined  with  stone,  shelv 
ing  rocks  blackened  and  seamed  on  the  under 


146      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

side  by  smoke  and  fire,  and  the  outlines  of 
huts  that  were  built  up  with  loose  stones, — 
are  vestiges  of  that  bitter  winter  and  the 
tragic  culmination  of  the  woes  of  the  des 
perate  soldiery. 

Another  encampment  was  in  Pompton  town 
ship  within  sight  of  that  on  the  mountain-side, 
and  so  much  more  kindly  planned  as  to  con 
venience  and  comfort  that  the  contrast  may 
have  augmented  the  discontent  of  the  mutinous 
band.  For  two  winters,  part  of  a  regiment  of 
American  troops  occupied  a  gentle  slope  with 
a  southern  exposure,  on  the  bank  of  the 
Ramapo  River.  A  virgin  forest  kept  off  north 
and  east  winds,  and  the  camp  was  within  less 
than  half  a  mile  of  the  main  road.  Soon  after 
peace  was  declared,  a  great  rock  in  the  middle 
of  the  river  was  used  as  a  foundation  for  a 
dam  that  widened  the  stream  into  a  lake.  A 
fall  of  thirty  feet  supplies  a  picturesque  feature 
to  the  landscape,  and  valuable  water-power  for 
the  Pompton  Steel  and  Iron  Works  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill.  Sunnybank,  the  summer  cot 
tage  of  Rev.  Dr.  Terhune,  is  built  upon  the 
pleasant  camping-ground  aforesaid.  In  clear- 
ing  the  wooded  slope,  remains  of  stockaded  huts 
were  unearthed,  with  bullets,  flints,  ^unlocks, 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      149 

and,  in  a  bed  of  charcoal  left  by  a  camp-fire,  a 
sword  of  British  workmanship,  in  perfect  pres 
ervation.  The  royal  arms  of  England  are 
etched  upon  the  blade  ;  on  the  hilt,  scratched 
rudely  as  with  a  nail,  or  knife-point,  are  the 
initials  "E.L."  The  steel  is  encrusted  with 
rust-gouts  that  will  not  out.  Who,  of  the 
miserably  equipped  rebel  soldiery,  could  afford 
to  lose  from  his  living  hand  a  weapon  so  good 
and  true  ? 

The  steeper  hill  across  the  lake,  on  the 
lower  slopes  and  at  the  base  of  which  nestle  the 
villas  and  cottages  of  "  summer  folk"  from  the 
metropolis,  took  the  name  of  "  Barrack  Hill" 
from  the  officers'  quarters  overlooking  the  camp. 

The  Marquis  de  Chastelleux,  from  whose 
Travels  in  North  America  quotation  has  al 
ready  been  made  in  these  pages,  writes  of 
this  region  in  1 780  : 

"  Approaching  Pompton  I  was  astonished  at 
the  degree  of  perfection  to  which  agriculture 
is  carried."  He  mentions  as  especially  well- 
cultivated  and  fertile  the  lands  of  "  the  Mande- 
ville  brothers,1  whose  father  was  a  Dutchman 
and  cleared  the  farms  his  sons  now  till." 

1  A  daughter  of  one  of  the  Mandeville  brothers  married  Dr.  William 
Washington  Colfax. 


i5°      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  Being  very  dark,  it  was  not  without  diffi 
culty  that  I  passed  two  or  three  rivulets,  on 
very  small  bridges,"  establishes  the  trend  of 
the  road  that  landed  him  that  night  at  Court- 
heath's  Tavern  (on  the  site  of  which  a  time- 
battered  hostelry  still  stands).  The  landlord, 
a  young  fellow  of  four-and-twenty,  complained 
bitterly  that  he  was  obliged  to  live  in  this  out- 
of-the-way  place.  "He  has  two  handsome 
sisters,  well-dressed  girls  who  wait  on  travel 
lers  with  grace  and  coquetry,"  is  a  sly  touch 
worthy  of  the  writer's  nationality.  He  atones 
for  it  by  honest  surprise  at  seeing  upon  a  great 
table  in  the  parlor  Milton,  Addison,  Richard 
son,  and  other  authors  of  note.  "  The  cellar 
was  not  so  well  stocked  as  the  library."  He 
(Could  "get  nothing  but  vile  cider-brandy  of 
which  he  must  make  grog."  The  bill  for  a 
night's  lodging  and  food  for  himself,  his  ser 
vants,  and  horses,  was  sixteen  dollars. 

From  this  showing,  we  infer  that  Dutch 
intelligence  and  integrity  were  distanced  by 
Dutch  enterprise  even  in  the  wilderness.  He 
recounts,  as  we  might  tell  of  a  casual  encounter 
with  a  neighbor,  that,  two  days  later,  he  met 
General  and  Lady  Washington  on  the  Morris- 
town  road,  travelling  in  their  post-chaise,  in 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      151 

which    roomy    conveyance    they    insisted    he 
should  take  a  seat. 

There  were  skirmishes,  many  and  bloody, 
upon  these  beautiful  hills.  An  encounter  in 
the  Morristown  Road  on  Pompton  Plains  at 
tained  the  dignity  of  a  battle,  and  the  slain 
were  buried  in  the  graveyard  of  the  wayside 
church.  In  the  garden  behind  Washington's 
headquarters,  was  dug  up  in  1889,  a  solid  silver 
spur  that  may  have  clamped  the  august  heel 
of  the  Nation's  hero.  The  flat  at  the  left  of 
the  Sunnybank  orchard  was  paved  with  thou 
sands  of  flat  stones  for  the  convenience  of  tak 
ing  horses  and  wagons  to  the  water's  edge. 
These  were  removed  a  few  years  ago.  Among 
the  matted  roots  beneath  them  was  found,  at 
one  spot,  a  bed  of  partially  fashioned  arrow 
heads,  and,  nearer  the  woods,  a  grave,  with 
roughly  hewn  stones  at  head  and  foot — per 
haps  the  last  resting-place  of  a  sachem  of  the 
once  powerful  tribe  of  Pompiton  Indians,— 
perhaps  of  "  E.  L."  Who  knows  ? 

Both  the  camping-grounds  I  have  mentioned, 
and  five  thousand  five  hundred  acres  besides 
of  mountain  and  plain,  were  deeded  by  royal 
letters  of  patent  to  Arent  Schuyler  in  1695. 
The  homestead  founded  by  him  stands  diago- 


i52       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


nally  across  the  lake  from  Sunnybank,  in  full 
sight,  although  three  quarters  of  a  mile  away. 
A  rampart  of  mountains  defends  it  from  the 
blasts  which  rush  down  the  northern  gorge, 
through  which,  from  the  crest  of  Barrack  Hill, 
the  naked  eye  can  trace  on  a  clear  day  the 
outline  of  Old  Cro'  Nest,  opposite  West  Point. 
Philip  Petersen  Schuyler,  the  founder  of  the 

large  and  influ 
ential  family  in 
America  bearing 
the  name,  emi 
grated  from  Am 
sterdam,  Holland, 
in  1650,  and  settled 
in  Albany  (then 
Beverwyck). 

This  is  his  entry 
in  the  family  Bible 
of  an  event  which 
occurred  the  same 


SCHUYLER  COAT-OF-ARMS. 


year. 


"  In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1650,  the  12  de- 
cember,  Have  I,  Philip  Peterse  Schuyler  from 
Amsterdam,  old  about  2  "  (illegible)  "  years 
married  for  my  wife  Margritta  van  Slichten- 
horst,  born  at  Nykerck  old  22  years  may  the 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      153 

good  god  grant  us  a  long  and  peaceful  life  to 
our  salvation  Amen." 

His  life  was  neither  long  nor  peaceful.  His 
decease,  jotted  down  in  the  same  Bible  by  the 
hand  of  his  wife,  took  place  when  he  was  less 
than  sixty  years  old.  The  services  rendered 
city,  State,  and  church  in  his  thirty  years'  resi 
dence  in  the  land  of  his  adoption,  his  courage, 
steadfastness  and  energy,  make  his  a  marked 
name  in  those  early  annals.  He  bore  the  title 
of  "  Captain  "  at  his  death,  and  is  mentioned 
in  contemporary  documents  as  "  Commissioner 
of  Justice  in  Albany." 

From  the  eight  children  who  survived  him 
sprang  such  noble  branches  as  the  Van  Cort- 
landts,  Van  Rensselaers,  Verplancks,  and  Liv 
ingstons.  His  eldest  son,  Peter,  was  the  first 
Mayor  of  Albany,  and  in  1689,  Commandant 
of  Fort  Orange  in  that  city. 

Johannes,  another  son,  we  learn  from  a  fam 
ily  MS.  embrowned  and  blotched  by  time, 

"Was  Captain  at  22,  and  in  1690  led  a  Company  of 
29  Christians  and  120  Savages,  as  far  as  La  Praise,  in 
Canada,  near  Montreal,  where  he  took  19  Prisoners  and 
destroyed  for  the  enemies  150  head  of  cattle,  and  subse 
quently,  after  an  absence  of  17  days,  returned  in  safety 
to  Albany.  He  is  said  to  have  had  great  influence 


154      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

with  the  Indians  and  was  the  grandfather  of  General 
Philip  Schuyler,  one  of  the  noted  chieftains  of  the  Revo 
lution." 

The  birth  of  Arent  Schuyler  is  duly  entered 
in  the  Bible  thus  : 

"  1662,  the  25  June  is  born  our  fourth  son 
named  Arent  van  Schuyler  may  the  Lord  God 
let  him  grow  up  in  virtues  to  his  Salvation 
Amen." 

The  father  interpolated  the  "  van "  in  the 
names  of  his  children  until  1666.  Philip,  Jo 
hannes,  and  Margritta  are  written  down  simply, 
"  Schuyler." 

The  wife  of  the  first  Philip  and  for  twenty- 
eight  years  his  loyal  relict,  was  one  of  the  fa 
mous  women  of  the  day.  She  had  sole  control 
of  her  husband's  large  estate  and  managed  it 
ably. 

An  amusing  bit  of  testimony  to  her  maternal 
devotion  is  given  in  a  letter  written  by  the  ob 
noxious  Leisler  to  the  three  commissioners 
sent  by  him  to  Albany  to  assume  control  of 
municipal  and  colonial  affairs  there.  Peter 
Schuyler  was  then  Mayor.  The  usurper  of 
the  Lieutenant-Governorship  writes  to  his 
agents  of  a  tale  "  that  ye  Widow  Schuyler 
beat  Captain  Milborne,  and  that  you  all  three 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      155 

were  forced  to  fly  out  of  ye  towne  and  were 
gone  to  Esopus,  and  Peter  Schuyler  was  in  ye 
fort." 

"  It  was  mere  rumor,"  comments  a  family 
record,  "  but  it  proved  she  was  a  woman  of 
spirit  and  resolution,  more,  that  her  influence 
was  a  power  which  her  enemies  feared." 

This  was  in  1690.  Six  years  earlier,  her  son 
Arent  (signifying  "  eagle ")  bought  a  house 
from  his  thrift-loving  mother,  to  be  paid  for  in 
peltry,  in  two  instalments  of  a  hundred  beavers 
each,  hung  a  live  eagle  in  a  cage  on  the  outer 
wall  in  lieu  of  a  door-plate,  married,  and  went 
to  housekeeping  with  Jenneke  Teller. 

In  imitation  of  the  will  made  by  Philip 
and  Margritta  Schuyler — the  provisions  of 
which  were  conscientiously  carried  out  by  the 
widow, — Arent  and  his  wife,  soon  after  their 
marriage,  united  in  a  testament  which  left  the 
survivor  sole  legatee  of  "all  the  estate  and 
personal  property  ...  all  and  everything 
which  they  now  possess  (may  he  or  she  re 
marry  or  not)  without  being  held  to  pay  over 
to  the  parents  or  friends  or  anybody  else,  even 
a  stiver's  worth." 

In  1690,  Arent  Schuyler  joined  a  party  sent 
under  Captain  Abraham  Schuyler  to  watch 


i56      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

the  French  near  Crown  Point.  While  on  this 
duty,  Arent  volunteered  to  lead  into  Canada 
a  company  of  eight  Indian  scouts,  himself 
being  the  only  white  man.  The  expedition 
returned  in  safety,  having  made  thorough  re- 
connoissances,  killed  two  French  pickets  and 
captured  one.  The  enterprise  gained  for  him 
much  credit  and  a  captaincy.  His  familiarity 
with  Indian  dialects  caused  him  to  be  chosen 
as  ambassador,  on  divers  occasions,  to  hostile 
and  friendly  tribes.  His  proven  courage  and 
his  diplomacy  were  not  more  notable  than  the 
detailed  exactness  of  his  monetary  accounts 
with  the  government.  Not  an  item  of  horse- 
hire  ;  of  Holland  shirts  furnished  to  chiefs  ;  of 
crackers,  peas  and  ferriage,  was  omitted  from 
the  bills  rendered  by  shrewd  Widow  Schuyler's 
fourth  son. 

Arent  Schuyler  removed  to  what  one  kins 
man  biographer  calls  "  the  wilds  of  New  Jer 
sey  "  between  i  701  and  i  706.  The  joint  will  of 
himself  and  bride  was,  of  course,  a  reciprocal 
affair,  with  equal  risks  on  both  sides,  but  the 
innings  remained  with  the  always  lucky  hus 
band.  He  fell  heir  to  every  stiver  and  stitch 
of  Jenneke  Teller's  share  of  the  property  in 
1 700,  and  married  Swantie  Dyckhuyse  in  i  702. 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      157 

In  1710,  he  bought  a  plantation  on  the  Passaic 
River  near  Newark.  Just  as  he  was  beginning 
to  fear  that  the  lands  were  unproductive,  and 
to  meditate  a  speedy  sale,  a  negro  slave  dis 
covered  a  copper  mine  which  established  his 
master's  fortune  beyond  the  reach  of  a  turn  of 
fate. 

Philip,  the  eldest  son  of  Arent  the  Lucky, 
was  left  upon  the  patrimonial  acres  at  Pomp- 
ton  when  his  father  transferred  his  residence 
to  Belleville,  New  Jersey.  He  was  a  man  of 
note  among  his  neighbors,  possessing  much  of 
the  thrift  and  industry  belonging  to  the  blood. 
He  represented  Passaic  County  in  the  Legis 
lature  for  several  years. 

His  son,  Arent  (2),  added  to  the  estate  the 
farm  bought  in  1739  from  Hendrick  Garritse 
Van  Wagenen,  on  which  the  homestead 
stands.  This  Arent,  with  his  son  Adoniah, 
occupied  it  during  the  Revolution,  and  in  a 
peaceful  old  age  related  many  and  strange 
tales  of  that  troublous  era. 

A  French  soldier,  ill  with  fever,  was  brought 
to  Mr.  Schuyler's  hospitable  door  from  the 
camp  across  the  river,  taken  in  and  nursed  by 
the  family  and  servants.  His  disease  proved 
to  be  smallpox  of  which  he  died.  A  low 


158       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

mound  in  the  orchard  shows  where  he  was 
buried.  The  family  influence  with  the  Indians, 
of  whom  there  were  many  in  the  nearest 
mountains,  was  transmitted  from  generation 
to  generation.  Adoniah,  when  a  boy,  talked 
with  them  in  their  own  language,  employed, 
when  grown,  Indian  men  on  the  farm,  and 
squaws  in  the  house.  Indian  boys  and  girls 
played  freely  about  the  doors  with  the  children 
of  the  second  Arent. 

While  the  conflicting  armies  were  surging 
back  and  forth  over  the  Debatable  Ground  of 
the  Ramapo  Valley,  Arent  Schuyler  called  in 
cattle  and  horses  every  night,  and  sent  them 
into  the  friendly  mountains  at  the  rear  of  his 
house,  under  the  care  of  trustworthy  laborers. 
Provisions  were  secreted  ingeniously,  and 
crops  put  into  the  ground  with  agonizing 
misgivings  as  to  who  would  reap  and  consume 
them, 

The  dwelling  has  been  twice  remodelled  in 
this  century.  It  is  a  substantial  stone  struc 
ture,  with  outlying  barns  larger  than  itself. 
The  walls  are  very  thick  and  an  air  of  restful- 
comfort  pervades  the  premises.  Peacocks 
strut,  and  guinea-fowls  clack  noisily  where 
Indian  children  played  with  Philip  Schuyler's 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      161 

grandsons.  Plough  and  hoe  still  bring  up 
arrowheads  in  the  long-cultivated  fields.  The 
ground  would  seem  to  have  been  sown  with 
them  as  with  grain. 

Mr.  Cornelius  Schuyler,  an  honored  citizen 
of  Pompton,  and  the  last  in  the  direct  male 
line  represented  by  Arent  (i),  Philip,  Arent 
(2)  and  Adoniah,  died  Sept.  14,  1868,  in  his 
seventy-fifth  year.  Mrs.  Williams,  his  married 
daughter,  and  her  husband,  Dr.  Williams,  dwell 
in  the  quiet  spaciousness  of  the  old  house. 

Of  the  many  thousand  Pompton  acres  owned 
by  the  race  that  knew  so  well  how  to  fight  and 
to  traffic,  only  the  extensive  home-tract  remains 
to  those  of  the  blood  and  lineage.  Of  the 
homes  inherited  and  made  for  themselves  by 
the  children  of  the  second  Philip  Schuyler,  all 
but  t\vo  have  passed  into  other  hands. 

Major  Anthony  Brockholls,  sometime  Gov 
ernor  of  the  Province  of  New  York,  and  at 
a  later  day  Mayor  of  New  York  City,  was  the 
friend  of  Arent  (i)  Schuyler  and  a  copartner 
in  speculation  in  New  Jersey  lands. 

"  These  gentlemen  bought  of  the  Indians  nearly  all 
the  land  now  comprised  in  Wayne  Township,  and  ac 
quired  the  title  from  some  New  Jersey  proprietaries  on 
November  nth,  1695.  In  the  same  year  they  erected 


162       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

homesteads  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  one  another. 
The  house  built  by  Schuyler  stands  yet  and  is  occupied 
by  William  Colfax,  one  of  his  descendants.  That  built 
by  Brockholls  has  disappeared  and  on  the  site  is  one 
more  modern,  occupied  by  the  family  of  the  late  Major 
W.  W.  Colfax,  another  offshoot  of  the  Schuyler-Colfax 
stock." 

This  extract  is  from  a  paper  kindly  given  to 
me  by  Dr.  William  Schuyler  Colfax  of  Pomp- 
ton,  who  is  himself  a  lineal  descendant  of 
Arent  (i)  Schuyler.  From  the  same  source 
we  learn  that  the  u  second  settlement  in  what 
is  now  Passaic  County  was  made  by  Arent 
Schuyler  and  Anthony  Brockholls  in  1694- 

,695." 

The  old  house  was,  then,  Schuyler's  home 
between  i  700  and  the  date  of  his  removal  to 
Belleville,  and  has  been  in  the  family  quite  as 
long  as  the  larger  building  nearly  a  mile  away 
and  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake. 

Philip  Schuyler,  the  son  of  the  first  Arent, 
had  eleven  children  besides  the  namesake  son 
who  inherited  the  Van  Wagenen  farm  along 
with  others.  Of  the  dozen,  nine  grew  to  man's 
and  woman's  estate.  Especial  good  fortune 
seems  to  have  followed  Arent's  name  and  line, 
for  we  find  from  Dr.  Colfax's  MS.  that  Arent's 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      163 

son  Caspar — or  Casparus,  as  another  record 
has  it — inherited  a  large  estate  at  his  father's 
death.  Furthermore,  that  Caspar  "  had  in 
some  manner  acquired  the  adjoining  Brockholls 
lands." 

He  had  but  one  child, — 

"  One  fair  daughter  and  no  more. 
The  which  he  loved  passing  well," — 

if  unstinted  indulgence  while  he  lived,  and  the 
bequest  to  her,  in  dying,  of  all  his  worldly 
goods,  were  proofs  of  parental  affection.  The 
beautiful  Ester — or  Hester — familiarly  known 
to  kindred  and  neighbor  as  "  Miss  Hetty," 
was  in  the  fifth  generation  from  "  ye  Widow 
Schuyler"  who  beat  and  chased  the  three 
Royal  Commissioners  sent  to  eject  her  son  . 
Peter  from  the  Mayoralty.  The  family 
"  spirit  and  resolution  "  dryly  commended  by 
the  chronicler  of  the  affair,  had  not  lost 
strength  with  the  passage  of  years.  If  the 
Widow  Schuyler's  spirit  were  a  home-brew  of 
sparkling  cider,  her  very-great-granddaughter's 
was  the  same  beverage  grown  "  hard "  with 
the  keeping.  Her  beauty  and  her  fortune 
attracted  a  swarm  of  beaux,  and  her  successes 
probably  kept  her  in  a  good  humor  in  her 


164      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

visitors'  sight.  While  Washington  was  en 
camped  at  Towowa,  seven  miles  away,  he  was 
on  several  occasions  her  most  honored  guest. 
We  may  be  sure  that  the  bravest  of  the  silks 
and  satins — that,  her  neighbors  said,  made  it 
unnecessary  for  them  to  look  around  to  see 
who  was  rustling  up  the  aisle  of  the  old  colonial 
church  (still  standing) — were  donned  when  the 
General  and  staff  were  expected  to  dinner, 
and  that  the  youthful  hostess  made  a  bonny 
picture  as  she  courtesied  in  the  Dutch  door 
way  in  acknowledgment  of  his  magnificent 
salutation. 

In  the  train  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  was 
a  handsome  youth  who,  although  but  nineteen 
years  of  age,  was  second-lieutenant  of  Wash 
ington's  Life-Guard.  He  came  of  a  French 
family  that  had  settled  in  Wethersfield,  Conn., 
in  1651.  It  may  have  been  the  dash  and 
vivacity  which  went  with  his  blood  that  com 
mended  him  to  Miss  Hetty's  favor.  His 
rivals  included  others  of  the  General's  staff. 
When  the  home-brew  was  the  sharper  for  ten 
or  twelve  years  of  married  life,  she  used  to 
bemoan  herself  that  "she  had  had  her  pick  of 
nine,  and  had  chosen  the  worst  of  the  lot." 

"  After  a  brief  and  vigorous  wooing,  Lieu- 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      165 

tenant  Colfax  became  engaged  to  Ester,  and 
married  her  at  the  close  of  the  war." 

He  was  Captain  of  the  Life-Guard  by  now, 
and  had  a  reputation  for  bravery  that  should 
have  tempered  with  justice  the  tart  training 
to  which  the  spoiled  beauty  subjected  him 
from  an  early  period  of  their  joint,  but  never 
united,  lives.  Even  after  he  became  General 
Colfax,  and  had  won  new  laurels  in  the  War  of 
1812,  we  hear  of  her  driving  in  an  open  ba 
rouche  over  the  short  mile  separating  her 
homestead  from  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church, 
the  General  riding  alongside,  and  on  the  foot 
board  behind  two  colored  pages,  the  one  to 
carry  after  her  to  the  Schuyler  pew  footstool 
and  fan  in  summer,  or  a  warming-pan  in  win 
ter,  the  other  to  bear  her  train  up  the  aisle. 
Her  husband  was  an  adjunct  to  the  state  she 
kept  up  to  the  clay  of  her  demise,  making  her 
boast,  within  a  few  weeks  of  that  desirable 
event,  that  she  had  never  combed  her  own 
hair  or  put  on  her  own  shoes  and  stockings. 
Dutch  father  and  French  husband  seem  to 
have  been  on  a  par  in  the  worse  than  folly  of 
humoring  caprices  which  waxed  with  indul 
gence  into  absurdities  that  are  among  the 
most  amusing  of  village  tales.  She  would 


1 66      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

drink  no  water  except  such  as  was  brought 
fresh  from  a  well  five  hundred  yards  distant 
from  the  house,  and  burned  none  except  hick 
ory  wood.  If  this  were  not  forthcoming  at 
her  call  she  would  toss  into  the  fire  whatever 
lay  nearest  her  hand,  were  it  gown,  or  shawl, 
or  silken  scarf.  She  would  not  allow  a  black 
beast  or  fowl  to  live  upon  the  place,  and  one 
of  the  fiercest  quarrels  between  the  ill-mated 
pair  was  because  her  husband  had  suffered 
her  to  eat  beef  bought  of  a  neighbor  who  had 

o  o 

slaughtered  a  black  cow.  When  he  offended 
her  beyond  the  possibility  of  forgiveness  by 
selling  a  tract  of  land  without  her  permission, 
she  retired  loftily  to  her  chamber,  and  did  not 
emerge  from  the  seclusion  for  ten  years. 
When  the  time  she  had  set  for  herself  and  to 
him  was  up,  she  came  forth,  richly  dressed, 
ordered  her  carriage,  and  drove  to  church  as 
if  nothing  had  happened. 

With  all  her  intolerable  whims,  she  retained 
to  the  last  her  shrewd  intelligence  and  ready 
wit,  and,  when  she  willed  to  be  pleasing,  her 
captivating  manner.  The  six  children  born 
to  her  loved  her  in  spite  of  the  flurries  and 
tempests  of  a  temper  they  and  their  father 
understood,  if  nobody  else  entered  into  the 


Schuyler  and  Colfax  Houses      169 

comprehension  thereof.  She  was  one  of  the 
"  characters  "  of  the  times  and  region,  and  her 
story  gives  a  flavor  of  peppery  romance  to  the 
long,  low,  hip-roofed  house.  Each  of  the 
three  sons  who  attained  manhood  was  a  citi 
zen  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence  and 
prominence.  Schuyler,  the  eldest,  became 
the  father  of  a  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States  :  William  Washington,  named  for  his 
father  and  his  father's  beloved  Chief,  was  an 
able  and  successful  physician,  and  one  of  the 
celebrities  of  the  township.  His  bon  mots  are 
still  retailed  by  his  old  acquaintances  and 
neighbors.  Throughout  his  life  he  was  a 
stubborn  Democrat,  and  a  friend,  one  day  in 
the  summer  of  1868,  showed  him  with  mis 
chievous  satisfaction  the  newspaper  announce 
ment  of  the  nomination  of  Grant  and  Colfax. 
The  doctor  read  the  article  through  without 
the  change  of  a  muscle. 

"  That  ticket,"  he  said  then,  quietly,  "  is  like  a 
kangaroo.  All  the  strength  is  in  the  hind  legs." 

George,  the  third  son,  built  a  homestead 
upon  the  foundation  of  the  Brockholl's  house. 
It  is  still  occupied  by  his  descendants. 

The  "  old  place "  is  tenanted  by  the  only 
son  of  Dr.  William  Washington  Colfax. 


i/o      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  fourth  William,  to  whom  I  am  in 
debted  for  much  interesting  information 
respecting  the  family,  has  in  his  possession 
a  miniature  of  General — then  Lieutenant — 
Colfax,  which  the  enamored  young  officer 
caused  to  be  painted  for  the  fair  and  spicy 
Hetty  during  their  engagement ;  also  a  pair 
of  beautifully  mounted  pistols  made  by  Thone 
of  Amsterdam.  They  were  given  to  his  favor 
ite  lieutenant  by  Washington  at  the  close  of 
the  war.  A  great-granddaughter  treasures 
as  an  odd  but  precious  relic,  a  man's  night 
cap  made  by  Lady  Washington  and  presented 
to  Captain  Colfax  with  her  own  hands.  The 
house  contains  tables,  chairs,  and  other  ancient 
furniture  antedating  the  stirring  Revolution 
ary  days  that  brought  the  boy-warrior  to  the 
arms — and  tongue — of  his  imperious  bride. 


VIII 


THE  VAN  CORTLANDT  MANOR-HOUSE 

OL  A  F  S  T  E  v  E  x  s  E  VAX  C  o  R  T  L  A  x  D  T, 
a  soldier  in  the  Dutch  West  Indian  serv 
ice,  accompanied  William  Kieft  to  America  in 
1638. 

He  came  of  a  noble  French  family  (Cour- 
land)  long -resident  in 
Holland.  In  1648,  he  left 
the  service  of  the  com 
pany,  and  a  year  later 
his  signature  appeared 
among  those  of  the 
44  Nine  Men"  who  pre 
sented  to  the  West  In 
dian  Co.  a  protest  against 

r.  V  r   VAN  CORTLANDT  COAT-OF-ARMS. 

the  maladministration  of      MOTTO,  "VIRTUS  S\B\  MUNUS." 
Kieft    and    Stuyvesant.      In    1654,    he  was    a 
Commissioner  from  New  Amsterdam  to  settle 


i?2       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

difficulties  with  the  Indians  after  the  Esopus 
massacre. 

He  was,  also,  an  Elder  in  the  Reformed 
Dutch  Church  of  which  "  Everardus  Bogardus, 
Dominie  of  New  Amsterdam,"  was  the  spirit 
ual  leader.  The  worthy  pastor  had  wedded, 
in  1638,  the  "  Widow  lans,"  otherwise  Anneke 
Jansen,  who  brought  with  her  to  her  new  hus 
band's  abode  the  five  children  she  had  borne 
to  her  first  husband.  It  was  considered  that 
the  clergyman  had  made  an  ineligible  match, 
the  bride  having  no  dowry  save  "  a  few  acres 
of  wild  land."  The  undesirable  estate,  regis 
tered  after  her  second  marriage,  as  "  The 
Dominie's  Bouwerie,"  is  now  the  property  of 
Trinity  Church  Corporation  in  New  York 
City.  ' 

Pastor  and  Elder  maintained  amicable  rela 
tions  toward  one  another  throughout  the 
Reverend  Everardus's  incumbency,  except  on 
one  occasion  when  the  minister  was  hurried, 
in  the  heat  of  debate,  into  the  utterance  of  a 
remark  that  reflected  upon  his  parishioner's 
integrity.  He  was  compelled,  in  a  meeting 
of  Consistory,  to  retract  his  words,  whereupon 
Olaf  Van  Cortlandt — whom  a  contemporary 
describes  as  "  without  mistake  a  noble  man  " — 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      173 

frankly  forgave  the  offender,  and  their  friend 
ship  was  fully  restored. 

The  pastor  was  drowned  in  Bristol  Channel 
in  1647,  and  the  doubly  widowed  Anneke  re 
sumed  the  management  of  the  "  Bouwerie." 

"  Old  Burgomaster  Van  Cortlandt "  was  one 
of  the  six  chief  townsmen  who  advised  and 
conducted  a  peaceful  capitulation  to  the  Eng 
lish  squadron  that  summoned  the  settlement 
on  "  the  Island  of  Manhattoes  "  to  surrender. 
In  the  political  see-saw  of  the  ensuing  decade, 
the  wise  Hollander  kept  his  seat  on  the  safe 
end  of  the  plank.  We  find  him  in  England, 
lading  governmental  ships  under  commission 
of  Charles  II.  ;  investigating  Lovelace's  un 
settled  accounts  when  the  latter  was  deposed 
by  the  reinstated  Dutch  masters,  and  he  was 
one  of  Andros's  council  after  the  international 
episode  was  settled  by  the  treaty  of  Westmin 
ster.  In  all  this,  he  so  cleverly  improved 
cloudy  as  well  as  shining  hours  that  he  had 
by  1674  amassed  a  fortune  of  45,000  guilders 
and  much  real  estate.  He  was  by  now  the  happy 
husband  of  Annetje  Loockermans,  who,  like 
himself,  was  born  in  Holland.  He  died  in  1683. 

"  A  worthy  citizen,  and  most  liberal  in  his 
charities,"  says  an  old  chronicle. 


i74      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

His  widow  survived  him  but  a  twelvemonth. 
Her  epitaph,  penned  by  the  pastor  of  the 
venerable  couple,  asserts  that  she 

"  .     .     .     after  Cortlandt's  death  no  rest  possessed, 
And  sought  no  other  rest  than  soon  to  rest  beside  him. 
He  died.  She  lived  and  died.  Both  now  in  Abram  rest." 

—tautological  testimony  which,  if  trustworthy, 
implies  wifely  devotion  and  a  common  Chris 
tian  faith. 

Thus  runs  in  brief  the  opening-  chapter  in 
the  American  history  of  a  family  than  which 
none  has  borne  a  more  conspicuous  and  hon 
orable  part  in  the  history  of  New  York. 
Compelled  by  the  stringency  of  space  (or  the 
lack  of  it)  to  restrict  myself  to  the  barest  out 
line  of  an  eventful  history,  I  pass  on  to  the 
threshold  of  the  picturesque  Manor-House, 
built  in  1 68 1  upon  the  Croton  River  then 
"  Kightewank  Creek." 

The  Manor  of  Van  Cortlandt  was  "  erected  " 
in  1697,  with  especial  privileges  pertaining 
thereto  besides  the  usual  rights  of  "  Court- 
Baron,  Court-Leet,  etc."  Under  this  title 
were  collected  lands  accumulated  during  nearly 
thirty  years  by  Stephanus  Van  Cortlandt, 
eldest  son  of  the  emigrant  Olaf.  At  thirty- 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      175 

four  he  was  the  first  American  Mayor  of  New 
York,  and  appointed  First  Judge  in  Admiralty 
by  Sir  Edmund  Andros. 

So  trusted  was  he  by  the  English  governors 
that  English-born  merchants  uttered  a  formal 
complaint  against  patronage  bestowed  upon 
"a  Dutchman  while  the  English  had  no 
chance." 

Office  was  heaped  upon  office  until  in  num 
ber  and  importance  they  surpassed  those  held 
by  his  doughty  brother-in-law,  Robert  Living 
ston.  The  two  Manorial  Lords  married  sis 
ters,  the  daughters  of  Philip  Petersen  Schuyler 
of  Albany.  The  cares  of  political  life,  business 
cares  and  responsibilities,  perhaps  the  chafe 
of  the  high-strung  ambitious  spirit  within  a 
not-robust  body,  made  his  days  briefer  than 
those  of  his  parents.  He  survived  the  creation 
of  his  Manor  less  than  four  years,  dying  in 
i  700,  at  the  comparatively  early  age  of  fifty- 
seven. 

Eleven,  out  of  fourteen,  children  outlived 
him.  Verplanck,  Bayard,  de  Lancey,  Van 
Schuyler, — are  some  of  the  notable  names 
joined  in  marriage  with  those  of  his  sons  and 
daughters. 

His    son    Philip  (i)   married   Catherine   de 


176       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Peyster,  "  was  an  eminent  merchant  in  posses 
sion  of  good  estate,"  and  one  of  His  Majesty's 
Council  in  1731.  Dying  in  1747,  his  estate 
was  divided  among  his  four  sons. 

To  Pierre  (i)  although  the  youngest,  was 
devised  the  Manor- House.  His  wife  was  his 
second  cousin,  Joanna  Livingston,  a  grandchild 
of  Robert. 

"  With  their  eldest  born,  Philip  Van  Cort- 
landt,  they  left  New  York  for  Croton  River, 
and  here  all  the  succeeding  children  were  born. 
For  a  time  all  passed  peacefully  ;  Pierre  pur 
suing  the  avocations  of  a  country  gentleman  of 
that  day,  busying  himself  with  his  farm  and  his 
mills." 

The  Manor-House,  built  as  a  fort  station 
by  Stephanus  Van  Cortlandt,  contained,  origi 
nally,  but  eight  rooms,  and  was  forty  feet 
long  by  thirty-three  wide.  It  was  of  Nyack 
red  freestone,  and  the  solid  masonry  of  the 
walls  was  pierced  with  loopholes  for  de 
fense  against  savage  visitors.  Within  a  few 
rods  was  the  Ferry-house,  constructed  of  brick 
and  wood.  As  the  dangers  from  savage  ma 
rauders  lessened,  the  young  members  of  the 
Van  Cortlandt  clan  fell  into  the  habit  of  using 
the  fort  for  a  hunting-lodge. 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      177 

The  five  sons  of  Philip  (i) — Stephen,  Abram, 
Philip,  John,  and  Pierre, — came  and  went  at 
their  pleasure,  finding  at  their  country  home 
constant  occupation.  Fish  were  abundant,  and 
deer  were  still  to  be  found  in  the  forest. 

Abram,  Philip,  and  John  died  unmarried, 
Stephen  and  Pierre  dividing  the  estate  between 
them.  It  was  but  natural  that  the  last-named 
should  gladly  embrace  the  opportunity  of  bring 
ing  up  his  young  family  in  scenes  endeared  by 
his  early  associations. 

The  brief,  blessed  calm  was  terminated  by 
the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution. 

"  In  1774," — says  the  careful  paper  prepared 
by  the  widow  of  the  late  Pierre  Van  Cortlandt, 
and  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  the  framework 
of  this  article, — "  Governor  Tryon  came  to 
Croton,  ostensibly  on  a  visit  of  courtesy,  bring 
ing  with  him  his  wife,  a  daughter  of  the  Hon. 
John  Watts  [a  kinsman  of  the  Van  Cort- 
landts].  .  .  .  The  next  morning  Governor 
Tryon  proposed  a  walk.  They  all  proceeded 
to  one  of  the  highest  points  on  the  estate,  and, 
pausing,  Tryon  announced  to  the  listening 
Van  Cortlandt  the  great  favors  that  would  be 
granted  to  him  if  he  would  espouse  the  royal 
cause,  and  give  his  adherence  to  king  and  par- 


178       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

liament.  Large  grants  of  land  would  be  added 
to  his  estates,  and  Tryon  hinted  that  a  title 
might  be  bestowed.  Van  Cortlandt  answered 
that  '  he  was  chosen  representative  [to  the 
Colonial  Assembly]  by  unanimous  approba 
tion  of  a  people  who  placed  confidence  in  his 
integrity,  to  use  all  his  ability  for  the  benefit  and 
the  good  of  his  country  as  a  true  patriot,  which 
line  of  conduct  he  was  determined  to  pursue/ 
(Pierre's  nephew,  Philip  [Stephen's  son], 
entered  the  Royal  army,  served  throughout 
the  war,  and  died  in  England  in  1814.  The 
present  Lord  Elphinstone  is  his  great-grand 
son.)  " 

The  discomfited  Tryon  returned  to  New 
York,  and  Van  Cortlandt  was  elected  to  the 
Second  Provincial  Congress  in  1775.  He  was 
also  a  delegate  to  the  Third  and  Fourth,  and 
President  of  the  Council  of  Safety. 

Franklin,  Rochambeau,  LaFayette,  Steu- 
ben,  de  Lauzun — and  a  greater  than  they — • 
WASHINGTON — were  honored  guests  within  the 
stout  walls  of  the  Manor-House  during  the 
war.  "  The  new  bridge  of  the  Croton,  about 
nine  miles  from  Peekskills,"  mentioned  by  the 
Commander-in-Chief  in  his  diary  of  July  2r 
1781,  superseded  the  ferry,  and  the  brick-and- 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      1 79 

timber  Ferry-house  served  as  temporary  bar 
racks  for  the  soldiers  on  their  passage  up  and 
down  the  river. 

Continued  residence  in  the  turbulent  heart 
of  military  operations  was  impossible.  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt  and  the  children  finally  sought 
an  asylum  upon  one  of  the  Livingston  farms 
at  Rhinebeck.  The  Manor-House  was  left  in 
charge  of  faithful  slaves,  and  was  visited  by 
the  family  by  stealth  and  at  long  intervals. 

Pierre  Van  Cortlandt  was  acting-marshal 
of  the  famous  Equestrian  Provincial  Congress, 
which  halted  in  mid-march  when  overtaken  by 
despatches  from  Washington  calling  upon 
them  for  appropriations,  etc.  Wheeling  their 
horses  into  a  hollow  square,  they  would  pass 
laws  and  legislate  bills  and  provisions  as  re 
quired,  then,  at  the  bugle-call,  form  into  line 
and  proceed  on  their  way. 

The  brave  father  writes  to  his  son  Philip — 
who  had  thrown  himself  with  the  enthusiasm 
of  early  and  vigorous  manhood  into  the  Patriot 
cause,  and  was  now  in  the  camp — of  his  pray 
erful  hope  "  that  the  Lord  will  be  with  you  all, 
and  that  you  may  quit  yourselves  like  men  in 
your  country's  cause." 

Pierre  Van  Cortlandt  se^/ed  as  Lieutenant- 


i8o       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Governor  from  1777  to  1795,  and  was  Presi 
dent  of  the  Convention  that  framed  the  new 
Constitution. 

The  echoes  of  the  war  had  muttered  them- 
selves  into  silence,  when  he  recalled  his  house 
hold  to  the  Manor- House  and  resumed  the 
peaceful  occupations  he  loved.  The  wife  of 
his  youth  was  spared  to  him  until  1808.  She 
was  eighty-seven  years  of  age.  They  had  lived 
together  for  over  sixty  years. 

"  A  model  wife,"  says  her  biographer  ;  "A 
model  mother  and  a  model  Christian.  She 
made  the  Manor  House  an  earthly  Paradise." 

Her  husband  outlived  her  six  years,  dying 
in  1814,  at  the  ripe  age  of  ninety-four. 

"  The  simplicity  of  his  life  was  that  of  an 
ancient  Patriarch.  He  descended  to  the  grave 
full  of  years,  covered  with  honor  and  grateful 
for  his  country's  happiness.  He  retained  his 
recollection  to  the  last,  calling  upon  his  Saviour 
to  take  him  to  Himself." 

The  hero-son  Philip  (2)  succeeded  to  the 
estate.  He  had  fulfilled  in  letter  and  in  spirit 
his  pious  father's  hope,  having  won  renown 
and  rank  by  his  gallantry,  and  universal  re 
spect  by  his  talents  and  character.  In  1783 
he  received  the  rank  of  Brigadier-General  for 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      181 

his  conduct  at  Yorktown.  For  sixteen  years 
he  represented  his  district  in  Congress.  In 
1824  he  accompanied  his  old  comrade  and 
dear  friend,  LaFayette,  in  his  tour  through 
the  country  they  had  helped  to  save.  He  died 
in  1831,  in  his  eighty-second  year. 

Pierre  (2)  Van  Cortlandt  (Philip's  brother 
and  successor)  was  born  in  1762.  He  was  a 
student  of  Rutgers  College  in  New  Brunswick 
at  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  and  one  of  the 
party  of  lads  who  joined  the  citizens  in  repel 
ling  an  attack  made  by  the  British  upon  the 
town.  He  studied  law  under  Alexander  Ham 
ilton,  a  kinsman  by  marriage,  Mrs.  Hamilton 
being  a  daughter  of  General  Philip  Schuyler. 
In  1801  Mr.  Van  Cortlandt  married  "  Caty," 
the  eldest  child  of  Governor  George  Clinton, 
and  after  her  death  in  1811,  Anne,  daughter 
of  John  Stevenson,  of  Albany. 

His  only  child,  Pierre  (3)  entered  upon  his 
inheritance  in  1848.  Superb  in  physique,  and 
courtly  in  bearing,  he  is  remembered  with  af 
fectionate  esteem  by  the  community  in  which 
he  spent  forty-eight  years  and  "  in  which  he 
had  not  one  enemy."  He  passed  away  peace 
fully  July  n,  1884. 

His    widow,   the    daughter  of    T.    Romeyn 


182       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Beck,  M.D.,  of  Albany,  the  eminent  scholar 
and  writer  on  medical  jurisprudence,  lived  for 
ten  years  longer  in  the  beautiful  old  home 
stead  with  her  son  and  her  daughter,  Miss 
Anne  Stevenson  Van  Cortlandt. 

Endowed  by  nature  with  unusual  beauty  of 
person  and  intelligence,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt 
added  to  these  gifts  scholarly  attainments, 
vivacity  and  grace  of  manner  that  made  her  the 
pride  and  joy  of  those  who  loved  her,  and  the 
chief  attraction  of  her  home  to  the  hosts  of 
friends  who  sought  her  there.  The  charm  of  her 

o 

conversation  and  society  was  irresistible.  She 
gave  of  her  intellectual,  as  of  her  heart,  treas 
ures  royally.  Her  fund  of  anecdote  was  ex- 
haustless,  her  descriptions  were  graphic,  and  the 
sunny  humor  that  withstood  griefs  under  which 
a  weaker  spirit  would  have  sunk  into  pessimistic 
despondency  never  deserted  her.  Her  contri 
butions  to  historical  periodicals  were  always 
trustworthy  and  full  of  interest,  her  letters 
were  models  of  easy  and  sparkling  composi 
tion,  the  only  substitute  which  absent  friends 
were  willing  to  accept  for  her  radiant  and 
gracious  presence. 

Out  of  the  fulness  of  a  loving  heart  I  offer 
this  humble  tribute  to  one  of  the  noblest  of 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      183 

the  Order  of  Colonial  Dames,  whom  the  places 
she  glorified  now  know  no  more.  It  is  a  bit 
of  fadeless  rosemary,  and  it  is  laid  upon  a 
shrine. 

The  son,  Captain  James  Stevenson  Van 
Cortlandt,  followed  the  example  of  his  ances 
tors  in  answering  promptly  to  his  country's 
call  in  her  day  of  need.  H  e  entered  the  army  at 
eighteen,  and  served  with  distinction  through 
out  the  civil  war,  first  as  Aid-de-Camp  to  Gen 
eral  Corcoran  ;  then  with  the  New  York  I55th, 
and,  upon  promotion,  in  the  New  York  22nd 
Cavalry,  being  with  that  regiment  during 
Sheridan's  brilliant  campaigns. 

A  married  daughter,  the  wife  of  Rev.  John 
Rutherford  Matthews,  Chaplain  in  the  U.  S. 
Navy,  occupies  the  quaint  old  Ferry-house, 
now  converted  into  a  comfortable  residence. 

The  Manor-House  is  long  and  low,  and 
draped  with  historic  romance,  legend,  and 
poetry,  as  with  the  vines  that  cling  to  the  deep 
veranda. 

Above  the  main  entrance,  with  its  Knicker 
bocker  half-door  and  brass  knocker,  are  the 
horns  of  an  immense  moose.  In  the  outer 
wall  to  the  left  is  cut  the  date  of  erection, 
"A.D.  1 68 1."  In  the  hall  hang  the  portraits 


1 84       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

of  John  and  Pierre,  sons  of  Philip  (i)  Van 
Cortlandt,  taken  in  boyhood.  Pierre  is  ac 
companied  by  his  dog;  John  has  his  hand  on 
the  head  of  a  fawn  tamed  by  himself.  The 
antlers  of  the  favorite,  grown  to  full  deerhood, 
and — let  us  hope — dying  a  natural  death  in  the 
fulness  of  years, — are  over  the  opposite  door. 

One  of  the  T-shaped  loopholes,  left  uncov 
ered  as  a  curious  memento  of  the  warlike  in 
fancy  of  the  homestead,  gapes  in  the  wall  of 
the  dining-room.  Beneath  it,  and  in  striking 
congruity  with  the  silent  telltale,  is  the  por 
trait  of  Joseph  Brant,  the  college-bred  Indian, 
who  "  with  all  his  native  ferocity,  was  a  polished 
gentleman." 

Aaron  Burr's  daughter,  Theodosia,  who 
should  have  been  a  competent  critic  in  matters 
of  deportment  and  etiquette,  bears  testimony 
to  the  high  breeding  of  the  Mohawk  chieftain 
in  a  letter  written  to  her  father  when  she  was 
a  precocious  and  accomplished  girl  of  fourteen. 
Burr,  who  was  in  Philadelphia,  had  given  Brant 
a  letter  of  introduction  to  Theodosia  in  New 
York,  and  the  young  lady  proceeded  to  arrange 
a  dinner-party  for  the  distinguished  stranger. 
Among  her  guests  were  Bishop  Moore  and 
Dr.  Bard,  an  eminent  physician  who  was  after- 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      187 

ward  President  of  the  College  of  Physicians 
and  Surgeons  in  New  York. 

The  hostess  was,  she  says,  sadly  puzzled  in 
making  up  a  suitable  bill  of  fare. 

"  I  had  a  mind  to  lay  the  hospital  under  con 
tribution  for  a  human  head  to  be  served  up 
like  a  boar's  head  in  ancient  hall  historic. 
After  all,  he  (Brant)  was  a  most  Christian 
and  civilized  guest  in  his  manners." 

In  17/9,  Colonel  Philip  Van  Cortlandt  led 
his  men  in  a  skirmish  against  Brant  and  his 
Indians,  and  while  standing  under  a  tree  and 
marshalling  his  men,  was  observed  by  the 
"  polished  "  savage.  He  promptly  ordered  a 
marksman  to  "  pick  off  "  the  white  officer.  The 
dancing  foliage  about  Colonel  Van  Cortlandt's 
head  misled  the  rifleman,  and  the  ball  missed 
the  mark  by  three  inches. 

"  Had  I  fired,  myself,"  said  Brant  in  a 
friendly  talk  with  General  Van  Cortlandt  in 
after  years,  "  I  should  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  you  to-day.  And  "  —with  a  bow 
and  a  smile — "  I  am  extremely  happy  that  I 
did  not." 

The  portrait,  painted  at  the  request  of  the 
late  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  grandfather,  James 
Caldwell,  of  Albany,  is  fine.  The  expression 


1 38       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

is  complacent,  even  benevolent,  although  the 
physiognomy  is  all  Indian.  There  is  not  a 
gleam  of  native  ferocity  in  the  sleek  visage, 
not  a  shadow  of  remorse  for  wanton  carnage 

o 

in  the  smiling  eyes.  A  large  stone  corn-mortar 
used  by  the  Indians,  is  built,  for  better  preser 
vation,  into  the  wall  of  the  lawn. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  once  related  to  me  this 
anecdote,  apropos  of  Indian  neighbors  : 

"  One  evening,  as  the  Lieutenant-Governor  and  his 
wife  were  seated  by  their  fireside,  several  Indians  came 
in.  They  were  made  welcome,  and  a  pitcher  of  cider 
was  brought  to  them.  After  all  had  drunk,  the  Chief 
returned  his  bowl  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  who  threw  the 
few  drops  that  remained  into  the  fire.  The  Chief,  with 
flashing  eyes  and  clenched  fists  advanced  to  strike  her. 
Governor  Van  Cortlandt  sternly  interposed,  demanding 
the  cause  of  such  violence.  Explanations  ensued,  and 
it  appeared  that  even  the  apparent  attempt  to  quench 
the  fire  on  the  hearth  was  an  insult,  according  to  Indian 
usage.  Amity  was  restored  by  an  apology." 

Better-mannered  and  more  welcome  priests 

o 

sat  about  the  superb  old  dining-table,  which  is 
the  richer  in  color  and  more  valuable  for  each 
of  the  250  years  that  have  passed  since  it  was 
made  over  the  sea.  Washington  and  his  aids, 
and  other  world-renowned  men,  ate  from  the 
generous  board. 


189         LOOPHOLE  AND   BRANT'S  PORTRAIT  IN   DININQ-ROOM. 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      191 

In  the  library  is  an  antique  chair  taken  from 
a  captured  Spanish  privateer.  The  fireplace  is 
surrounded  by  tiles,  each  bearing  the  arms 
of  some  branch,  direct  or  collateral,  of  the  Van 
Cortlandt  family,  painted  by  Mrs.  Matthews, 
who  is  an  accomplished  and  diligent  genealo 
gist  and  antiquarian.  The  Van  Cortlandt  crest 
is  the  central  ornament.  Twenty-four  tiles 
are  to  the  right  and  left  of  it. 

It  is  almost  miraculous  that  such  wealth  of 
silver,  glass,  and  china  survived  the  early  colo 
nial  wars,  and  the  frequent  removals  these 
rendered  necessary,  as  one  sees  upon  the  buf 
fets  and  in  the  closets  of  the  Manor-House. 
To  the  relic-lover,  historian,  and  romancist, 
every  step  is  a  surpriseful  delight. 

Before  a  profile-portrait,  in  a  small  chamber 
on  the  first  floor,  we  pause  in  silent  reverence. 
It  shows  a  woman  past  the  prime  of  life,  but 
still  beautiful.  Her  features  are  strong,  yet 
refined,  the  eyes  are  clear  and  solemn.  Within 
the  locked  door  of  this  apartment,  Joanna 
Livingston,  wife  of  Lieutenant-Governor  Pierre 
Van  Cortlandt,  knelt  and  prayed  and  fasted 
from  morning  until  night,  en  the  day  of  the 
battle  of  White  Plains.  To  the  devout  imagi 
nation,  there  is  a  brooding  hush  in  the  atmos- 


i92       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

phere  of  the  secluded  room  consecrated  for  all 
time  by  agonized  supplication  for  husband,  son, 
and  country. 

The  wedding  gown  of  Joanna  Livingston 
is  preserved  here,  and  we  regard  with  almost 
equal  interest  a  bit  of  pink  silk  kept  in  Mrs. 
Matthews's  reliquary.  I  give  the  story  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's 
words  : 

"  Gilbert*  Van  Cortlandt  wrote  to  his  father  :  '  Nancy 
has  got  a  bright  pink  silk — beautiful  !  She  will  appear 
as  well  as  the  best  of  them.' 

:  *  Nancy  '  was  the  daughter  of  Pierre  Van  Cortlandt 
and  Joanna  Livingston.  She  married  Philip  Schuyler 
Van  Rensselaer,  long  Mayor  of  Albany,  and  a  brother  of 
the  Patroon.  *  Nancy,'  on  one  occasion  when  going  to 
dine  with  the  Patroon,  wore  this  dress,  and  just  as  she 
was  setting  out,  a  party  of  Methodist  preachers  drove  to 
the  door.  As  usual,  they  expected  entertainment  and 
lodging.  While  she  was  receiving  them,  one  of  the  party 
turned  to  her  and  said  :  '  Madame  !  do  you  expect  to  go 
to  Heaven  in  that  gown  ? '  She  was  shocked  at  his 
rudeness,  and  never  wore  the  dress  again,  on  account  of 
the  unpleasant  association  connected  with  it." 

Another,  and  a  sadder  family  story  is  of  the 
untimely  death  of  Catherine,  only  daughter  of 
Philip  (i)  Van  Cortlandt  and  his  wife  Cath- 

*  Son  of  Lieutenant-Governor  Van  Cortlandt. 


FIREPLACE   IN   LIBRARY. 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      195 

erine  de  Peyster.  Having  gone  with  her 
nurse  to  the  then  fashionable  promenade,  the 
Battery,  on  June  4,  1738,  to  witness  the  cele 
bration  of  the  King's  birthday,  the  little  girl 
was  killed  by  the  bursting  of  a  cannon  used  in 
firing  salutes.  She  was  but  twelve  years  of 
age.  Her  body  was  laid  in  a  vault  in  Trinity 
Church,  New  York.  Several  years  later  the 
tomb  was  opened,  and  the  devoted  nurse  who 
had  insisted  upon  being  present,  saw  the  pretty 
child  lying  asleep  as  in  life.  The  woman  stooped 
to  kiss  her.  At  the  touch  of  her  lips,  the  body 
crumbled  to  dust.  There  was  left,  where  the 
face  had  been,  but  a  moment  before,  only  the 
small  cap  with  its  crimped  border,  and  the 
tl  minnikin  "  pins  that  had  fastened  it  to  the 
hair. 

In  the  "ghost-room"  of  the  Manor-House 
are  the  portraits  of  the  first  and  second  wives 
of  General  Pierre  (2)  Van  Cortlandt.  The 
dark,  clearly  cut  face  in  profile  opposite  the 
door  is  that  of  "Caty"  Clinton.  Wilfulness 
speaks  in  every  lineament,  but  the  piquante 
face  is  wistful,  rather  than  petulant.  She 
married,  clandestinely,  Captain  John  Taylor, 
a  British  officer,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure 
for  England.  It  may  have  been  three  months 


196      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

thereafter  when  her  father  looked  up  from  a 
newspaper  to  observe  : 

"  I  see  that  Captain  Taylor  died  at  Fal- 
mouth,  soon  after  reaching  port." 

His  daughter  interrupted  him  by  falling  in 
a  faint  at  his  feet.  While  looking  at  her  pict 
ured  presentment  we  can  believe  that  she  car 
ried  the  traces  of  the  early  love  affair  and  the 
shock  of  the  tragedy  that  ended  it,  throughout 
the  few  years  of  her  married  life  with  the 
gallant  gentleman  who  had  this  portrait  of  her 
finished  after  her  death.  His  second  wife,  it 
is  said,  sat  for  the  figure.  He  always  spoke 
of  Caty  as  "  bright  and  beautiful."  The  fam 
ily  annals  describe  her  as  "  energetic  and  viva 
cious."  Of  Anne  Stevenson,  the  mother  of 
;his  only  child  (poor  Caty  had  none  ! )  he  said, 
'"  She  was  an  angel."  And  yet  we  turn  from 
her  lovely,  high-bred  face  for  another  and 
longer  look  at  the  child-widow,  whose  soldier- 

o 

love  never  came  back  to  give  her  courage  to 
.confess  the  ill-starred  marriage  to  her  father. 

The  ghost-lore  of  the  ancient  homestead  is 
rich  and  authentic.  This  is  one  of  the  stories 
told  me  while  I  loitered  in  the  chamber  fur 
nished  with  belongings  one  and  two  centuries 
old. 


THE       GHOST-ROOM." 


Van  Cortlandt  Manor-House      199 

The  narrator  was  the  noble  mistress  of  the 
Manor-House  : 

"  A  young  lady  visiting  us  in  September,  1863,  was 
asked  if  she  minded  sleeping  in  the  Ghost-Room,  as  it 
was  a  long  while  since  any  mysterious  sounds  had  been 
heard  there.  She  was  told  that  if  she  was  nervous  a  ser 
vant  would  occupy  the  adjoining  apartment.  She 
laughed  at  the  query,  and  '  had  no  belief  in  or  fear  of  ap 
paritions.'  In  the  morning  she  came  to  the  breakfast- 
table,  pale  and  ill-at-ease.  After  breakfast,  she  confessed 
to  having  awakened,  suddenly,  feeling  that  some  one  was 
in  the  room  near  her  bed.  Presently,  it  took  the  definite 
shape  of  a  woman,  dressed  in  a  brown  gown,  with  a  white 
handkerchief  crossed  over  her  breast.  A  large  apron,  a 
bunch  of  keys  at  her  side,  a  mob  cap  and  long  ear-rings 
completed  the  figure.  It  remained  for  what  seemed  a 
long  time,  and  twitched  the  bed-clothes  off,  disappear 
ing  as  the  whistle  of  the  two  o'clock  train  was  heard. 

"  As  soon  as  we  heard  this  story,  my  daughter  and  I 
exclaimed,  *  That  is  the  exact  description  of  R — ! '  an  old 
housekeeper  who  lived  at  General  Van  Cortlandt's  house 
at  Peekskill  and  had  died  some  time  before.  Every  de 
tail  was  exact,  although  the  guest  had  never  seen  or 
heard  of  her. 

"  The  sound  of  a  carriage  driven  up  the  gravelled 
drive  to  the  front-door,  has  been  heard  by  every  mem 
ber  of  the  family.  An  old  servant,  a  former  slave  and 
most  excellent  creature,  used  to  declare  that  she  had 
seen,  in  days  past,  the  coach  and  pair  with  liveried  ser 
vants  and  old  Lady  Van  Cortlandt  alighting  at  the  door. 
I  never  did,  but  I  have  heard  it  many  times  ;  the  tramp- 


200       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ling  hoofs,  the  roll  and  grating  of  the  wheels,  the  sudden 
check  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  and,  looking  out,  saw- 
nothing." 

A  plate  let  into  a  pillar  of  the  veranda  re 
cords  that  George  Whitefield  stood  here  while 
he  preached  to  an  immense  audience  upon  the 
lawn.  Bishop  Asbury  also  preached  from  the 
improvised  pulpit. 

Sorrows  have  multiplied  and  thickened  above 
the  venerable  homestead  in  later  years,  but 
the  cordial  hospitality  characteristic  of  the 
Van  Cortlandts  in  every  generation  is  still  ex 
tended  to  stranger  and  to  friend.  Love  and 
good-will  sit  with  clasped  hands  before  the 
ancient  hearthstone  ;  the  spirit  of  charity, 
generous  and  graceful,  abides  within  the  walls 
like  a  visible  benediction  upon  inmates  and 
guests. 


IX 


OAK  HILL,  UPON  THE  LIVINGSTON  MANOR 

FAIR  Alida  (van)  Schuyler,  daughter  of 
Philip  Petersen  Schuyler  of  Albany,  mar 
ried,  first,  Rev.  Nicholas  van  Rensselaer,  and, 
as  his  widow,  espoused,  in  1683,  Robert  Living 
ston,  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  men  of  his 
century. 

H  is  family  sprang  from  a 
Hungarian  root.  "  Liven- 
gus  "  is  among  the  names 
of  the  knights  who  fol 
lowed  William  of  Nor 
mandy  across  the  Channel.  LIVINGSTON  COAT-OF-ARMS. 

AT     •       •  /--«  f  MOTTO,         SI  JE  PUIS. " 

Livingston,  George,  ot 

Linlithgow,  lost  title  and  estate  through  his 
devoted  partisanship  of  the  losing  side  in 
1645. 


201 


202       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Robert,  his  grandson,  was  the  son  of  John 
Livingston,  a  Scottish  clergyman  resident  in 
Linlithgow  until  his  removal  to  Holland  after 
the  sequestration  of  the  family  estates.  Cal- 
lender  House,  in  the  neighborhood  of  this 
town,  was  one  of  the  residences  of  the  family. 
The  name  occurs  frequently  upon  the  grave 
stones  in  the  burial-ground  of  the  parish  church. 

John — otherwise  "  Messer  John,"  otherwise, 
"  Dominie  "  Livingston — visited  America  to 
"  prospect "  for  the  foundation  of  a  family 
estate  in  the  New  World,  a  scheme  foiled  by 
his  death  soon  after  his  return  to  Scotland, 
about  the  year  1672.  Robert  sailed  for  this 
country  in  1674,  and  settled  in  the  Dutch  Col 
ony  of  Beverwyck  (Albany). 

In  1675,  ne  was  Town  Clerk  and  Secretary 
of  Indian  affairs.  In  1680,  he  presented  to 
"  his  Excellency,  Sir  Edmund  Andross  knt., 
Governor  Gen'l.  under  his  Royall  Highness  of 
New  Yorke  and  Dependences  in  America," 
an  "  humble  peticou  "  for  the  grant  of  a  "  Cer 
tain  tract  of  Land  Lying  upon  Rolef  Jansen's 
kill  or  Creeke,  upon  the  East  side  of  Hudson's 
River  near  Cats  kill  belonging  to  the  Indian 
Proprietors  not  purchased  by  anybody  hitherto 
and  your  humble  Petioner  being  Informed 


Oak  Hill  203 

that  the  owners  are  willing  to  dispose  of  the 
same  with  the  runn  of  Water  or  Creeke,"  etc., 
etc., 

The  "  peticou  "  is  superscribed  : 

"  Granted  to  be  Purchased  according  to 
Law  And  upon  A  Survey  thereof  Duly  re 
turned  a  Pattent  to  be  granted  him  for  a 
Bowery  or  farme  there  as  desired.  New  Yorke 
the  1 2th  of  Novemb'r  1680, 

E.  Andross" 

This  modest  demand,  promptly  granted, 
was  the  tip  of  the  camel's  nose  thrust  into  the 
wigwam  window  of  the  Mohican  Indians  own 
ing  "  3  Flatts  with  some  small  Flatts,"  to 
gether  with  sundry  "Woodland,  Kills,  Creeks," 
and  the  like,  extending  "  Northwards,  South 
wards  and  further  Eastward,  keeping  the  same 
breadth  as  on  the  River  bank."  The  land 
was  paid  for  in  guilders,  "  Blankets  and  Child's 
Blankets,"  shirts,  cloth,  ten  kettles,  powder, 
guns,  twenty  little  looking-glasses,  fish-hooks, 
awls  and  nails,  tobacco,  knives,  strong  beer. 
"  Four  stroud  coats,  two  duffel  coats  and  four 
tin  kettles,"  rum  and  pipes,  ten  pairs  of  large 
stockings  and  ten  pairs  of  small,  not  to  men 
tion  adzes,  paint,  bottles,  and  twenty  little 
scissors. 


204       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  deed  was  signed  July  12,  1683,  in  Al 
bany,  by  Robert  Livingston,  a  Dutch  inter 
preter,  two  Dutch  witnesses  and — each  by  his 
mark — four  Indians. 

Tamaranachquae,  an  Indian  woman,  stipu 
lated,  before  signing,  for  the  right  to  plant 
and  sow  for  four  years  on  a  certain  "  little 
hook  of  Land." 

This  first  grant  was  for  2000  acres  of  land 
on  Hudson's  River. 

Letters  patent  for  another  tract  of  600 
acres  were  issued  to  Robert  Livingston,  Aug. 
27,  1685.  In  1686,  the  tracts  were  erected 
into  a  Lordship  of  Manor,  giving  a  "  Court- 
leet,  Court-Baron,  and  other  dignities  and 
privileges." 

The  Attorney-General  for  the  Crown  in 
dorsed  the  "  pattent"  to  the  effect  that  it  had 
been  "  duly  perused  and  found  to  contain 
nothing  prejudiciall  to  His  Majestye's  interest." 
There  was  a  good  deal  to  be  perused.  Be 
sides  the  usual  legal  verbiage  and  iteration, 
there  is  mention  of  "  black  Oake  "  and  "  white 
Oake  Trees  marked  L,"  of  "  Timberwoods, 
Underwoods,  Swamps,  Moors,  Marshes,  Mead 
ows,  Rivoletts,  Hawking,  Hunting,  fishing, 
fowling  "  (with  never  a  comma  between,  in  the 


20.5     ROBERT  LIVINGSTON,   FIRST  LORD  OF  LIVINGSTON   MANOR. 


Oak  Hill  207 

original)  of  a  "  Marsh  lyeing  neare  unto  the 
said  kills  of  the  said  Heapes  of  Stones  upon 
which  the  Indians  throw  upon  another  as  they 
Passe  by  from  an  Ancient  Custom  among 
them,"  of  "  Mines  Mineralls  (Silver  and  Gold 
Mines  only  excepted) "  and  so  on  through 
about  three  thousand  "words,  words,  words  !" 
winding  up  with  statement  of  the  obligation 
on  the  part  of  the  said  Robert  Livingston, 
"his  Heires  and  assigns  for  ever,"  to  pay  a 
yearly  rent  or  tax  of  "  Eight  and  twenty 
Shillings  Currant  mony  of  this  Country,"  to 
the  Crown. 

Thus  far  the  world  and  his  adopted  land 
had  dealt  generously  by  the  son  of  the  Scotch 
Dominie. 

The  first  discord  in  the  chant  of  praise  to 
him  who  had  done  so  well  for  himself  comes 
to  us  in  a  note  from  the  Earl  of  Bellomont, 
resident  Governor  of  the  Colony,  of  whom  we 
shall  hear  more  in  other  chapters — addressed 
to  the  London  Board  of  Trade. 

"  2nd  Jan  y  ijoi. 

"  Mr  Livingston  has  on  his  great  grant  of 
1 6  miles  long  and  24  broad,  but  4  or  5  cot 
tages  as  I  am  told,  men  that  live  in  vassalage 
under  him  and  are  too  poor  to  be  farmers  not 


2o8       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

having  wherewithall  to  buy  cattle  to  stock  a 
farm." 

The  sequitur  to  this  note  was  the  removal 
by  Lord  Bellomont  of  Robert  Livingston  from 
the  office  of  collector  of  excise  in  Albany,  and 
the  statement,  also  accredited  to  the  Earl- 
Governor,  that  the  collector  deserved,  on 
account  of  "  great  frauds  "  practised  in  and  out 
of  office,  to  be  suspended  from  His  Majesty's 
Council.  Lieutenant-Governor  Nanfran  took 
up  the  accusation  upon  Lord  Bellomont's 
death  in  1701.  In  his  indictment  he  declares 
that  the  story  of  the  ex-collector's  connection 
with  "  Capt.  Kidd  the  pyrate  "  had  never  been 
disproved  ;  that  Livingston  was  guilty  of  fraud 
ulent  and  contumelious  conduct,  and  desertion 
of  His  Majestye's  service  and  province.  For 
these  causes,  singly  and  combined,  he  was 
suspended  "  from  being  one  of  his  Maj'ty's 
Council  of  this  province  until  his  Maj'ty's 
pleasure  be  further  known  therein." 

The  next  blow  was  a  demand  from  the 
Assembly  that  he  be  deprived  of  all  his  offices, 
five  in  number,  and  his  estate  be  confiscate. 
In  1705,  arrived  Queen  Anne's  warrant  rein 
stating  him  in  every  office.  The  Council, 
thereupon,  declared  his  position  of  Secretary 


aog     GERTRUDE  SCHUYLER  (SECOND  WIFE  OF  ROBERT  LIVINGSTON). 


Oak  Hill 


21  I 


of  Indian  affairs  a  sinecure,  and  refused  to  pay 
his  salary.  Rob't  Livingston's  petition  to 
Lord  Lovelace,  "  Governor-in-Chief  of  the 
Province  in  New  Yorke  East  and  West  Jer- 
says  &c.,"  for  payment  of  moneys  due  him  for 
services  rendered  as  Indian  Agent,  contains 
the  mention  of  the  prudent  neutrality  of  his 
wife's  brother  when  Livingston's  petition  for 
the  "  arrears  of  his  said  salary  "  was  laid  before 
the  Council.  He  thus  quotes  the  entry  on 
the  Council-Book,  Sept,  15,  1708. 

"  It  is  ye  opinion  of  his  Excellency  &  all  ye 
Council  (Except  Coll.  Schuyler  who  gave  no 
opinion  therein)  that  ye  Petition  be  disal 
lowed,"  etc.,  etc. 

The  indefatigable  Lord  of  the  "Manner" 
next  offered  himself  as  representative  to  the 
Albany  Assembly  and  was  elected  in  i  709, — a 
position  he  held  for  five  years.  In  that  time, 
he  secured  the  repeal  of  every  act  injurious  to 
himself,  and  triumphed  completely  over  de 
tractors  and  persecutors. 

In  i  710,  the  parent  government  transported 
a  colony  of  three  thousand  Palatines  (  Hes 
sians)  to  a  tract  of  land  lying  on  Hudson 
River.  The  Queen,  no  longer  needing  them 
as  mercenary  troops,  lent  willing  ear  to  the 


212       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

proposition  that  they  should  be  settled  near 
the  Canadian  frontier,  as  a  passive  safeguard 
against  French  and  Indians,  and  to  make  '4  Tur 
pentine,  Rozin,  Tarr  and  Pitch  "  for  commerce 
and  the  British  navy.  It  is  an  interesting  and 
somewhat  diverting  story,  that  of  this  trouble 
some  colony,  many  of  whose  names  are  per 
petuated  in  the  denizens  of  East  and  West 
Camps  and  Germantown,  New  York.  Robert 
Livingston  sold  to  Governor  Hunter  as  Repre 
sentative  of  the  Crown,  for  four  hundred 
pounds  sterling,  enough  land  to  furnish  a  plot 
of  ground  and  a  cabin-site  to  each  immigrant 
family,  and  obtained  the  contract  to  feed  them 
at  sixpence  a  head,  per  diem.  Liberal  rights 
of  way  were  reserved  in  the  ponderous  deed 
recording  the  transfer,  also,  hunting  and  fish 
ing  privileges,  and  liberty  of  digging,  taking, 
and  carrying  away  stones  from  the  river  beach. 
Stipulation  was  further  made  that  no  pines 
should  be  felled  within  six  English  miles  of 
the  Livingston  saw-mills. 

Notwithstanding  the  minute  provisions  of 
the  contract  made  with  Livingston  for  vict 
ualling  the  Palatines,  he  so  far  managed  to  get 
the  best  of  the  bargain  that  Lord  Clarendon 
wrote  to  Lord  Darmouth,  in  1711,  his  convic- 


Oak  Hill  213 

tion  that  "  Livingston  and  some  others  will 
get  estates.  The  Palatines  will  not  be  the 
richer." 

It  would  be  tedious,  and  it  is  needless  to 
go  into  the  particulars  of  the  further  connec 
tion  of  Robert  Livingston  with  the  Hessian 
settlement.  If  he  made  money  out  of  the 
Crown  and  the  Palatines,  they  were  a  fret 
ting  thorn  in  his  side  until  the  day  of  his 
death. 

In  i  72 1,  he  moved,  as  "Sole  Proprietor  of 
the  Manor  of  Livingston,"  for  the  establish 
ment  and  building  of  a  church  upon  his 
estate,  and  for  calling  "  some  able  and  pious 
Dutch  Reformed  Protestant  Minister  from 
Holland "  to  officiate  therein.  The  chapel 
now  standing  at  Staatje  ( Little  Village)  about 
a  mile  and  a  half  below  the  site  of  the  Manor- 
House,  is  built  over  the  vault  of  the  ancient 
church.  The  chapel — a  new  structure — took 
the  place  of  the  "  Livingston  Reformed  Church 
of  Linlithgow,"  erected  in  i  780.  Generations 
of  dead  Livingstons  rest  within  the  vault, 
which  was  bricked  over  for  all  time,  within  a 
few  years,  by  Mr.  Herman  Livingston  of  Oak 
Hill. 

The    original    Manor-House    stood    at    the 


214       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

mouth  of  what  was  at  the  time  of  the  grant 
known  as  "  Roelef  Jansen's  Kill,"  and  after 
wards  received  the  name  of  Livingston  Creek. 

o 

It  was  low-ceiled  and  thick-walled,  a  colonial 
farm-house  with  outbuildings  for  negro  slaves 
and  other  laborers.  An  odd  and  yet  authentic 
tradition  is  that  Robert  Livingston  kept  his 
wealth  of  ready  money  on  the  floor  in  one 
corner  of  his  bedroom.  There  was  no  lock 
on  the  door,  through  which,  when  open,  chil 
dren,  servants,  and  visitors  could  see  the  piles 
of  Spanish  coins  heaped  up  in  apparent  care 
lessness.  The  story  goes  so  far  as  to  give 
$30,000  as  the  amount  of  the  deposits  on  one 
occasion  in  this  primitive  bank,  and  to  add 
the  astounding  information  that  the  pro 
prietor,  who  was  at  once  Board  of  Direction, 
President  and  Cashier,  never  lost  doubloon  or 
dollar  by  the  dishonesty  of  those  who  could 
easily  have  made  drafts  upon  his  "  pile." 

Robert  Livingston  died  in  1722.  In  listen 
ing  to  the  story  of  his  life,  the  wonder  arises 
that  he  yielded  finally  to  any  foe,  even  the 
King  of  Terrors.  His  was  a  crafty,  far- 
reaching  intellect  ;  in  will-power  he  was  sub 
lime.  He  grasped  audaciously,  and  held 
what  he  gained  with  a  grip  which  councillors 


Oak  Hill 


215 


and  nobles  could   not   relax.     When  deprived 

at  home  of  offices  and  titles,  he  went   abroad 

in  one  of   his  own  vessels,   to  sue  for  justice 

at  the  foot  of   the  throne,  and  brought   home 

in   his   pocket  the  papers   reinstating  him   in 

position  and  fortune.      Upon   the    return   voy 

age  he  was  in  imminent  danger  of  shipwreck. 

In  recognition  of  his  signal 

deliverance,    he     set    aside 

the    family    crest,  —  a  demi- 

sauvage,    with    the    motto, 

"  Si  je  puts"  —  and  assumed 

a  device  of  his  own,  —  a  ship 

in  distress,  with  the  legend 

*  *  Spero  meliora  .  "     T  o  h  ar  d  i- 

hood,  enterprise,    and   keen 

intelligence,   he    must   have     ROBERT  LIVINGSTON'S 

.      .  .  .  CREST. 

joined  a  magnetic  per 
sonality  of  which  history,  written  and  oral, 
gives  no  hint  except  by  recording  his  mag 
nificent  successes.  Buccaneers,  Indian  savages, 
phlegmatic  Dutchmen,  peers  and  princes,  seem 
to  have  been  powerless  to  resist  his  influence 
when  confronted  by  him,  however  they  might 
plot  for  his  ruin  in  his  absence. 

Yet  it  is  not  a  comely,  or  in  any  sense  an 
attractive,   visage  that  gazes  at  us   from  the 


216       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Oak  Hill  portrait  of  the  first  Lord  of  the 
Manor.  In  full-bottomed  wig  and  official 
scarlet  robes,  he  looks  the  astute  sardonic 
rugged-featured  Scotchman,  born  to  drive  and 
domineer  when  he  could,  and  to  outwit  where 
force  was  futile. 

At  the  death  of  this  extraordinary  man,  his 
will  bestowed  the  lower  section  of  the  Manor 
(Clermont)  upon  his  son,  Robert,  the  Manor 
proper  descending  to  the  oldest  son,  Philip. 

Philip  Livingston's  will  (dated  July  15,  1/48) 
left  the  Manor  to  his  son  Robert,  known  in 
the  family  as  Robert  Livingston,  Jun'r.  Rob 
ert's  estate,  by  a  will  bearing  elate  of  May  31, 
1784,  was,  at  his  death,  divided  among  his 
sons,  Walter,  Robert  C.,  John,  and  Henry. 

Robert  Livingston,  Jr.,  inherited  with  the 
Manor  and  name  his  grandfather's  pluck  and 
persecutions.  The  immense  estate,  great  now 
in  value  as  in  extent,  was  the  subject  of  con 
troversy  between  Massachusetts  and  New 
York.  The  correspondence  carried  on  by 
lawyers  and  governors  is  voluminous  and 
entertaining. 

In  1795,  about  260  descendants  of  the  emi 
grant  Palatines — "  Inhabitants  of  the  Town  of 
Livingston,  in  the  County  of  Columbia,"  de- 


PHILIP  LIVINGSTON  (SECOND  LORD  OF  THE   MANOR). 


Oak  Hill  219 

manded  from  the  New  York  Legislature  an 
investigation  into  the  title  by  which  the  Liv 
ingstons  held  their  famous  Manor.  Much  of 
the  petition  is  taken  up  with  the  recapitulation 
of  the  terms  and  limitations  of  the  original 
grants  which,  it  alleged,  were  for  but  2600 
acres,  whereas  the  descendants  of  the  said 
Robert  Livingston  claim  under  these  letters- 
patent,  175,000  acres. 

About  one  third  of  the  petitioners  signed  the 
instrument  with  their  marks,  instead  of  writing 
their  names.  At  the  foot  of  the  document  is 
the  briefly  significant  note  : 

".  .  .  On  the  19  March,  1795,  the 
committee  of  the  Assembly  reported  adversely 
on  the  above  petition,  and  the  House  con 
curred  in  the  report  on  the  23d  of  the  same 
month." 

Judge  Sutherland  prefaces  his  able  "  De 
duction  of  Title  to  the  Manor  of  Livingston/' 
by  a  note  to  the,  then,  proprietor  (in  1850) 
Mr.  Herman  Livingston,  in  which  he  gives  the 
number  of  acres  originally  contained  in  the 
estate  as  160,000.  "All  of  which,"  he  adds, 
"  have  been  sold  and  conveyed  in  fee  simple, 
but  about  35,000  acres." 

This  "deduction"  was  consequent  upon  a 


220       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

celebrated  Manorial  suit  contesting  the  valid-' 
ity  of  the  Livingston  title,  in  which  Judge 
Sutherland  was  counsel  for  the  proprietors. 
A  MS.  note  upon  the  fly-leaf  of  the  pamphlet 
before  me  informs  the  reader  that  "  John 
Van  Buren's  fee  from  the  Anti-Renters  was 
$2500,  and  $20  per  day  from  the  state  during 
the  trial." 


X 

OAK  HILL  ON  THE  LIVINGSTON  MANOR 

( Concluded. ) 

THE    original    Manor- House,    built   by   the 
first  Robert  Livingston,  was  demolished 

o 

over  one  hundred  years  ago. 

The  site  is  now  occupied  by  the  dwelling  of 
Mr.  Alexander  Crafts,  a  grandson  of  Robert 
Tong  Livingston.  Not  one  stone  of  the  old 
house  is  left  upon  another,  but  now  and  then 
the  plough  brings  up  a  corroded  coin,  as  if  to 
mark  the  location  of  the  primeval  Banking- 
house  established  by  the  canny  Scot.  His 
wealth,  portioned  among  his  descendants,  was 
held  and  increased  by  them  to  an  extent  un 
usual  in  American  families.  Stately  home 
steads  arose  upon  desirable  points  of  the  vast 
plantation,  until  nearly  every  commanding 
eminence  for  a  dozen  miles  up  and  down  the 
river  was  owned  by  one  of  the  blood  or  name. 


221 


222       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Clermont,  the  home  of  Chancellor  Robert 
Livingston  at  Tivoli,  was,  and  is  one  of  the 
finest  and  most  interesting  of  these.  It  stands 
upon  the  lower  division  of  the  estate,  and  is 
a  noble  edifice,  built  in  the  form  of  an  H,  and 
gray  with  honorable  old  age.  Paintings,  fur 
niture,  and  other  heirlooms  are  preserved  with 
pious  care. 

Mr.  Clermont  Livingston,  the  present  pro 
prietor,  is  a  grandson  of  Chancellor  Living 
ston.  The  adjoining  estate  is  owned  by  Mr. 
John  Henry  Livingston,  a  grandson  of  Her 
man  Livingston  (i)  of  Oak  Hill. 

The  last-named  mansion — Oak  Hill — was 
built  by  John  Livingston  in  1/98,  as  the  im 
mediate  successor  of  the  heavy-raftered  farm 
stead  dignified  by  Royal  Charter  into  a 
Baronial  Hall.  The  modern  Manor-House 
is  about  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  aban 
doned  site. 

The  omnipotence  of  affluence,  conjoined 
with  education  and  continued  through  four 
generations,  wrought  out  in  John  Livingston 
a  finer  type  of  manhood  than  his  well-born 
ancestor  developed  in  the  New  World. 

A  descendant  thus  describes  the  master  of 
Oak  Hill  in  his  old  age  : 


223 


JOHN   LIVINGSTON. 
(THE  LAST  LORD  OF  THE  MANOR.) 


Oak  Hill  225 

"  His  style  of  dress  was  that  worn  by  all  courtly  gentle 
men  of  the  olden  time, — a  black  dress-coat,  with  knee- 
breeches  fastened  over  his  black  silk  stockings  with 
silver  buckles  ;  similar  buckles  of  a  larger  size  were  in 
his  shoes.  He  had  a  high  forehead,  beautiful  blue  eyes, 
a  straight  nose,  and  a  very  determined  mouth.  His  hair 
was  carefully  dressed  every  morning,  the  long  queue  was 
rewound,  the  whole  head  plentifully  besprinkled  with 
powder,  and  the  small  curls,  that  had  remained  in  papers 
during  breakfast-time,  adjusted  on  each  side  of  his  neck." 

He  was  thought  by  many  to  bear  a  strong 
resemblance  to  General  Washington  ;  but,  as 
a  beautiful  miniature  on  ivory  shows,  was  a 
much  handsomer  man,  his  features  being  cast 
in  a  nobler  mould,  and  chiselled  into  refine 
ment  of  beauty  by  a  life  that  varied  widely 
from  the  severe  discipline  which  was  the  first 
President's  from  his  childhood. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  last  of  his  line 
to  hold  the  title  of  "  laird  "  in  this  republic  was  a 
man  of  mark  by  reason  of  position  and  personal 
accomplishments.  Opulence  and  ease  had  not 
enfeebled  the  bound  of  the  Linlithgow  blood, 
and  the  passion  for  adding  field  to  field  that 
had  made  Livingston  Manor,  lived  in  old 
Robert's  great-grand  children.  John  Living 
ston  and  his  brother  bought  immense  tracts 
of  land  in  New  York,  until  they  called  forth  a 


226       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

legislative  remonstrance.  It  was  hardly  conso 
nant  with  the  genius  of  democracy,  it  was  rep 
resented,  that  one  family  should  own  the 
entire  State.  The  brothers  then  cast  covetous 
eyes  upon  Western  lands,  miles  of  which  they 
purchased,  including  the  territory  upon  which 
the  town  of  New  Connecticut,  Ohio,  was  built. 
They  had  saw-mills,  flour-mills,  and,  at  Ancram, 
New  York,  valuable  iron  works. 

The  taste  for  iron — in  the  ore — was  common 
to  several  branches,  direct  and  collateral,  of  the 
race.  Sarah,  daughter  of  Philip  Livingston, 
married  Alexander,  titular  Earl  of  Stirling, 
whose  mines  in  the  mountains  of  New  Jersey 
are  mentioned  in  our  chapter  upon  the  Schuy- 
ler  Homestead.  Her  portrait  at  Oak  Hill  is 
that  of  a  stately  dame  in  whose  haughty  face 
one  traces  a  decided  resemblance  to  her  grand 
father,  Robert,  of  the  ponderous  peruke  and 
scarlet  robes. 

The  story  of  Oak  Hill  life  under  the  last 
laird  reads  like  an  English  holiday  romance, 
rather  than  the  early  annals  of  a  war-beaten 
young  nation.  John  Livingston  delighted,  at 
seventy-five,  to  tell  his  grandchildren  tales  of 
the  social  gayeties  of  that  epoch,  of  the  family 
dinner-parties  ;  the  evening  gatherings  in  the 


Oak  Hill  227 

summer,  when,  from  one  and  another  of  the 
handsome  residences  dotting  the  rising  ground 
back  of  the  river,  came  chariot  and  cavalcade, 
with  scores  of  kinspeople  to  laugh,  talk  and 
dance  away  the  hours  ;  of  sleighing-parties  to 
Clermont  and  Oak  Hill,  when  revelry  ran  yet 
higher.  On  one  memorable  occasion,  every 
sleigh,  in  turning  from  the  Oak  Hill  door,  upset 
in  a  particularly  incommodious  snowdrift  at  the 
corner  of  the  house. 

"  Water  picnics "  occurred  several  times 
during  the  summer.  The  Livingstons,  from 
Robert  down,  were  ship-owners.  They  estab 
lished  a  line  of  "fast  packets"  for  coast  and 
ocean  voyages,  and  their  sloops  plied  regularly 
to  and  from  New  York.  Merry  parties  of 
cousins  took  passage  in  the  June  weather  on 
the  laden  sloops  and  ran  down  to  the  city  and 
back,  for  the  fun  of  it. 

"  Our  two  voyages"-—/,  c.,  up  and  down  to 
New  York — "  occupied  nine  days  and  seven 
hours,"  says  a  participant  in  one  of  these 
"runs," — "and  we  were  received  at  Oak  Hill 
with  as  hearty  a  welcome  as  if  we  had  per 
formed  the  journey  around  the  world." 

The  Manor  servants  were  all  negro  slaves, 
removed  by  so  few  years  from  African  pro- 


228      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

genitors,  that  the  older  among  them  resorted, 
by  stealth,  at  night,  to  a  cave  in  the  hills  not 
far  away,  for  the  practice  of  Voudoo  worship, 
until  the  custom  was  discovered  by  their  mas 
ter  and  promptly  broken  up. 

A  newspaper  letter,  printed  on  paper  now 
falling  to  pieces  with  age,  thus  recalls  "  times  " 
that  were  "  old  "  when  it  was  issued  : 

"  At  Oak  Hill,  JOHN  LIVINGSTON  resided  and  owned 
a  whole  flock  of  niggers,  the  fattest,  and  the  laziest,  and 
the  sauciest  set  of  darkies  that  ever  lay  in  the  sunshine. 
They  worked  little  and  ate  much,  and  whenever  there 
was  a  horse-race  or  a  pig-shave  at  '  the  Stauchy ' 
(Staatje)  the  negroes  must  have  the  horses,  even  if 
their  master  should  be  obliged  to  go  about  his  business 
on  foot.  When  they  visited  Catskill  in  tasseled  boots 
and  ruffled  shirts,  they  were  sure  to  create  a  sensation, 
;and  it  was  not  unusual  for  the  '  poor  whites '  to  sigh  for 
£he  sumptuous  happiness  of  John  Livingston's  slaves." 

From  the  simple,  touching  story  of  John 
Livingston's  last  days,  given  by  his  grand 
daughter,  I  make  an  extract  : 

*"  When  the  logs  lay  piled  high  on  the  shining  brass 
andirons,  and  the  blaze  began  to  stream  up  the  capacious 
chimney,  emitting  its  cheerful  crackling  sound,  Grand 
papa  would  arouse  himself,  and,  with  brightened  eye, 
and  almost  his  own  pleasant  smile  would  listen  to  the 
stories  of  our  day's  adventures.  Sometimes  he  would 


Oak  Hill  229 

tell  us  incidents  of  his  boyhood,  stirring  events  of  our 
glorious  Revolution,  some  of  whose  heroes  he  had  known, 
and  remind  us,  with  pardonable  pride,  that  our  family 
name  was  inscribed  among  those  of  the  fearless  signers 
of  our  great  Declaration.  Then  he  would  seem  to  have 
his  own  children  around  him,  and  talk  to,  and  admonish 
us,  as  if  the  fathers  sat  in  the  places  of  their  sons.  But 
the  mind  was  wearing  away,  and  soon  relapsed  into  in 
action.  He  daily  grew  weaker,  and  I  had  rather  leave  a 
blank  here  for  the  few  sad  weeks  that  preceded  the  first 
day  of  October,  1822." 

The  majestic  relic  of  a  picturesque  age  known 
to  us  only  by  tradition,  lay  dead  for  three  days 
in  the  homestead  he  had  built,  while  the  solemn 
concourse  of  kinspeople  and  distant  friends 
was  collecting  to  attend  his  funeral.  In  dining- 
room,  upper  and  lower  halls  were  set  tables 

"covered  with  fair  white  linen  on  which  were  displayed 
treasures  of  old  family  silver — large  bowls,  tankards  and 
mugs,  bearing  the  family  coat-of-arms" — writes  the  grand 
daughter.  "  Every  superfluous  ornament  was  removed 
from  the  parlor  and  reception-room,  and  the  family-por 
traits  were  draped  in  black.  .  .  .  About  twelve  o'clock 
the  company  began  to  arrive  .  .  .  the  gentry  from  all 
the  neighboring  country-seats  in  their  state  carriages. 
These  were  ushered  into  the  drawing-rooms.  Then 
came  the  substantial  farmers,  many  from  a  long  distance 
with  wives  and  daughters  ;  last  of  all,  the  tenantry  and 
poorer  neighbors  gathered.  There  was  room  for  all  ; 
none  were  overlooked,  and  one  and  all  looked  sad.  .  . 


230       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

At  one  o'clock  the  first  tables  were  served,  and  the 
others  immediately  after.  It  was  a  motley  assemblage. 
Delicacies  of  every  kind  had  been  provided  for  '  the 
great  folk,'  as  the  servants  styled  our  aristocratic  guests, 
and  they  sat  down  ceremoniously  as  to  a  large  dinner 
party.  In  the  halls  there  was  more  conviviality.  .  .  . 

"  One  room  only  was  quiet.  The  stillness  of  death 
was  there.  Each  new-comer  had  visited  it,  and  many 
had  stood,  with  bowed  heads  and  grave  countenances, 
looking  on  the  features  of  the  dead. 

"I  shall  always  remember  my  grandfather  lying, 
dressed  as  in  life,  with  punctillious  neatness,  and  looking 
as  if  about  to  rise  and  speak  lovingly  as  he  always  did  to 
us  in  life." 


It  was  a  man,  and  a  master  among  men, 
whom  "  multitudes  of  vehicles  "  followed  to  the 
vault  beneath  the  "  Livingston  Reformed 
Church  of  Linlithgow  "  that  October  day,  when 
hickories  and  maples  were  burning  bright  with 
color,  and  the  grand  oaks  that  gave  name  to 
the  Mansion-house  were  red,  brown  an-d  dusky- 
purple.  The  American  laird  was  r\v  petit  maitre, 
incongruous  with  true  dignity  and  republican 
simplicity  as  seem  the  curl-papers  worn  dur 
ing  breakfast-time,  and  the  valet-barber  vho 
brought  curling-tongs,  powder  and  pomatum- 
boxes  for  Mr.  Livingston's  daily  toilette  when 
he  was  in  the  city. 


I 

Z 

i  I 


i 


Oak  Hill  233 

The  quotation  given  just  now  records  graph 
ically  and  tenderly  a  child's  impressions  of  the 
funeral  ceremonies  of  that  date,  and  affords  us 
a  glimpse  of  the  feudal  state  in  which  this  grand 
old  gentleman  lived  and  died. 

He  was  succeeded  at  Oak  Hill  by  his  son, 
Mr.  Herman  Livingston,  who  died  in  1872. 
The  pretty  boy,  who  met  me  on  the  piazza, 
and  seconded  his  mother's  cordial  welcome  as 
I  alighted  at  the  hospitable  door,  is  the  fourth 
of  the  name,  in  direct  line  of  descent,  three  of 
whom  are  still  living. 

The  house  stands  on  the  summit  of  the  hill, 
overlooking  the  river  and  the  back-country, 
white  and  faint-pink  with  orchard  blossoms  in 
the  spring-time.  Upon  the  horizon  roll  and 
tower  the  beautiful  Catskills  ;  century-old  oaks 
enclose  the  dwelling  and  out-buildings ;  the 
well  kept  lawn  slopes  into  teeming  fields. 

The  exterior  of  the  homestead  has  been  re 
modelled  within  a  quarter-century,  at  the  ex 
pense  of  picturesqueness,  the  mansard  roof 
having  taken  the  place  of  steeper  gables. 
Until  this  alteration,  the  servants'  quarters  re 
mained  where  John  Livingston  established 
them — in  the  basement.  There  they  worked, 
lived  and  slept.  To  the  modern  sanitarian, 


234      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

the  gain  in  healthfulness  and  comfort  almost 
compensates  for  the  loss  in  artistic  effect. 
The  walls  are  very  thick  and  built  of  brick 
manufactured  on  the  Manor.  The  wood  used 

in  the  structure  was  hewed  from  the  Living- 

<•> 

ston  woods.  Several  neighboring  farm-houses 
were  made  of  bricks  imported  from  Holland, 
but  our  landed  proprietor  prided  himself 
upon  meeting  domestic  demands  by  home- 
products. 

Within-doors,  the  arrangement  of  the  stairs 
and  rooms  on  the  first  and  second  floors  has 
undergone  no  change.  Deeply  set  windows, 
tall  mantels  with  the  curious  putty  decorations 
our  great-grandmothers  delighted  in ;  broad 
staircases  with  leisurely  landings,  please  the 
eye  of  the  antiquarian  when  he  can  spare  atten 
tion  for  anything  besides  the  magnificent  old 
"  kaus  "  ("  kaas  "  or  "  cos  ")  which  stands  in  the 
front  hall. 

There  are  whispers  of  a  sacrilegious  period  ; 
a  brief  reign  of  modern  irreverence  that  came 
even  to  Oak  Hill,  during  which  profane  youths 
used  certain  uncomely  portraits  as  targets ; 
when  novelty-loving  women  bartered  bureaux, 
deep-colored  with  age,  for  fashionable  furniture, 
and  presumptuous  cooks  seasoned  sauces  with 


•'35 


THE  OLD   KAUS. 


Oak  Hill  237 

wine  mellowed  by  a  half-century's  keeping  and 
a  three  years'  voyage. 

The  "  kaus,"  a  huge  press,  or  wardrobe,  or 
armoire,  splendid  with  carving,  and  towering 
to  the  hall  ceiling,  has  held  its  place  since  the 
house  was  finished.  It  was  already  ancient 
when  John  Livingston  brought  it  with  other 
household  goods  to  his  new  mansion.  A  noted 
connoisseur  in  antiques  pronounces  the  mate 
rial  "  Swiss  rosewood,"  the  workmanship  of  a 
period  of  at  least  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 
old.  Other  interesting  pieces  of  furniture 
are  here,  such  as  pier-glasses  and  tables  of 
ebony  and  gilt,  a  pair  of  folding  card-tables 
which  are  undoubtedly  Chippendales,  massive 
high-post  curtain  bedsteads,  etc., — but  none 
compare  in  venerableness  and  beauty  with  the 
kaus. 

The  Livingston  treasures  in  china  and  sil 
ver  are  notable.  Much  of  the  plate  is  a  direct 
inheritance  from  Robert  the  First,  and  is 
stamped  with  the  family  crest. 

One  tiny  porcelain  pitcher  has  and  deserves 
a  place  of  its  own.  It  is  a  Chinese  "  sacrificial 
cup,"  500  years  old,  and  is  said  to  have  come 
over  from  Holland  with  the  first  Robert 
Livingston.  There  are,  so  assert  experts  in 


238       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

china,  but  four  others  known  to  museums  and 
art-collectors. 

In  the  upper  hall  hangs  the  portrait  of 
Philip  Stanhope,  the  son  of  Lord  Chesterfield, 
the  one  to  whom  the  famous  Letters  were 
addressed.  Robert  Fulton  was  the  painter. 
It  is  perhaps  not  generally  known  that  Fulton 
was  by  profession  an  artist.  The  speculations 
and  experiments  upon  Watt's  theories  respect 
ing  the  use  of  steam  which  led  to  the  construc 
tion  of  the  first  steamboat,  introduced  him 
to  Stanhope  and  led  to  a  lasting  friendship. 
Robert  Fulton's  home  was  at  Staatje,  less 
than  three  miles  below  Oak  Hill.  In  the 
cellar  is  a  huge  stone,  believed  by  the  super 
stitious  neighbors  to  be  enchanted.  No  one 
can  lift  it  and  live. 

The  neighborhood  has  greatly  changed 
within  seventy  years.  The  junketings  and 
feastings  and  brilliant  progresses  from  home 
stead  to  homestead,  irrespective  of  season  or 
weather,  belong  to  an  irrevocable  Past.  But 
the  routine  of  daily  being  and  doing  at  Oak 
Hill  has  still  in  it  striking  (and  the  best)  feat 
ures  of  the  country  life  of  the  English  gentry. 


XI 

THE  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE 

AMONG  the  last  grants  of  land  in  the  New 
World   to   which   were  affixed  the  joint 
signatures  of  William  and  Mary,  was  one  made 
in   1693  to  Frederick  Philipse  of  their  Majes 
ties'  Province  of  New  York. 

This  grant,  which  was  virtually  a  barony 
under  the  management  and  sway  of  the  mas 
terful  proprietor,  contained  many  thousand 
acres  of  woodland,  mountain,  hillsides  and 
fertile  meadows.  The  land  now  occupied  by 
the  city  of  Yonkers  was  but  a  tithe  of  the  mag 
nificent  estate.  The  rights  ceded  to  Philipse 
in  perpetuity  by  the  royal  grant  included  the 
liberty,  should  he  elect  so  to  do,  to  construct 
a  ferry  or  a  bridge  at  what  was  known  as 
"  Spikendevil  Ferry,"  and  to  collect  toll  from 
passengers.  He  gave  the  name  of  "  King's 
Bridge  "  to  this  thoroughfare. 

239 


240       Some  Colonial  Homestead 

As  he  increased  in  riches,  he  built  for  his 
own  use  and  that  of  his  family  two  notable 
residences,  the  Philipse  Manor-House  at 
Yonkers,  and  Castle  Philipse  at  Sleepy  Hol 
low  in  Tarrytown.  Considerations  of  con 
venience  unknown  to  us  must  have  dictated 
the  choice  of  two  sites  that  were  not  far 
enough  apart,  the  one  from  the  other,  to  offer 
a  decided  change  of  air,  winter  or  summer. 
The  annual,  or  semi-annual  flittings  from 
Manor-House  to  Castle  were  regulated  by 
other  causes  than  those  that  now  close  New 
York  houses  in  June,  and  send  the  occupants 
across  the  ocean,  or  to  mountain-tops  hundreds 
of  feet  above  the  sea-level. 

Both  of  the  Philipse  homesteads  were  large 
and  handsome.  The  parks  were  stocked  with 
tame  deer,  as  in  Old  England.  The  extensive 
gardens  were  laid  out  and  planted  in  accord 
ance  with  formal  ideas  brought  from  his  native 
Holland  by  the  founder  of  the  American 
family.  From  England  and  from  the  Conti 
nent  were  imported,  besides  bulbs,  seeds,  and 
shrubs,  ornamental  shade-trees  that,  taking 
kindly  to  the  hospitable  soil,  transformed  the 
wilderness  into  plantations  which  were  the 
wonder  of  the  simple  neighbors. 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       241 

None  but  negro  servants  were  employed  in 
the  house  and  about  the  grounds,  but  the 
retainers  and  tenants  of  the  successful  planter 
and  trader,  whom  men  styled  "  the  Dutch 
millionaire,"  were  many  and,  in  one  way  and 
another,  brought  him  great  gain.  From  the 
records  of  a  prosperous  life  that  have  come 
down  to  us,  we  gather  that  he  did  his  duty  by 
kindred  and  community,  not  forgetting  his 
highly-respectable  self,  and  took  a  cool,  gentle 
manly  interest  in  public  affairs.  He  sat  as 
magistrate  in  his  barony  at  stated  times  and 
seasons,  hearing  evidence  and  dispensing  jus 
tice  as  seemed  right  in  his  and  in  his  brother- 
magistrates'  eyes,  and  upholding  the  dominies 
and  regular  services  of  the  Reformed  Dutch 
Church  in  America.1 

His  nest  of  ease  was  rudely  stirred  at  length, 
and  trouble  came  from  an  unexpected  quarter. 

Richard  Coote,  Earl  of  Bellamont  (or  Belb- 
mont,  as  American  chronicles  spell  it),  was 
appointed  Governor  of  New  England  and 
New  York  in  1695.  He  filled  his  brief  term 
of  office  (ended  by  his  death  in  1701)  with 

1  The  list  of  church-members  and  their  residences,  kept  by  Rev. 
Henricus  Selyus  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church  in  Brauwers  Straat 
fnow  part  of  Stone  St.),  included  in  1686,  "  De  Heer  Frederick 
Philipse." 


242       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

clamorings  against  the  landed  proprietors 
whose  "  great  grants  "  gave  them  the  state  and 
wealth  of  feudal  lords  in  a  country  which  it 
was  to  the  interest  of  London  emigrant  and 
trading  companies  to  have  settled  by  farmers, 
lumbermen,  and  miners.  The  men  who  lived 
"  in  vassalage  "  under  Livingstons  and  Philipses, 
Schuylers  and  Van  Cortlandts,  might  bring 
wealth  to  their  landlords  and  employers.  They 
did  not  enrich  the  Mother  Country. 

In  pursuance  of  a  policy  that  was,  in  the 
settlers'  eyes,  rank  agrarianism,  he  shaped 
and  sent  to  England  for  approval  a  bill  restrict 
ing  any  one  person  from  holding  more  than 
one  thousand  acres  of  land. 

When  his  confidential  friend,  James  Gra- 
hame,  Attorney-General  of  the  Province,  sug 
gested  that,  in  addition  to  the  proposed  bill, 
one  be  prepared  advising  the  partition  of 
grants  already  existing,  naming  two  "  as  an 
essay  to  see  how  the  rest  should  be  borne," 
honest  Bellomont  wrote  home  that  he  would 
not  advise  the  measure  unless  the  rule  should 

be  made  general  and  "others  share  the  same 
& 

fate."  Among  the  "  others  "  were  grants  made 
to  both  the  Philipses,  father  and  son. 

Although   the   personal   relations   of    Bello- 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       243 

mont  and  Frederick  Philipse  remained  out 
wardly  unchanged,  the  sting  left  in  the  mind 
of  the  Lord  of  the  Manor  by  the  attempt  to 
disintegrate  his  estate,  rankled  and  burned. 
The  open  rupture  came  when  Bellomont  inti 
mated  that  Philipse  had  profited  by  the  noto 
rious  William  Kidd's  piratical  enterprises. 

Frederick  Philipse,  Robert  Livingston  and 
others  sent  liquors,  gun 
powder  and  arms  in 
their  own  ships  through 
what  then  corresponded 
with  the  clearance  house 
in  New  York,  to  Mada 
gascar,  and  the  same 
vessels  returned  in  good 
time  laden  with  East 
Indian  goods.  "  Arab- 

&  _,  PHILIPSE  COAT  OF  ARMS. 

ian  gold  and  East  India 

goods  were  everywhere  common."  Rum  that 
cost  two  shillings  a  gallon  in  New  York  was  so 
vastly  improved  in  flavor  by  the  sea-voyage 
that,  when  it  reached  Madagascar,  it  sold  for 
three  pounds  a  gallon.  The  pipe  of  Madeira 
that  could  be  bought  in  New  York  for  nineteen 
pounds,  brought  in  Madagascar,  presumably 
because  of  the  mellowing1  wrought  by  the  same 

£>  «">  J 


244       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

sea-air  and  much  rolling,  three  hundred  pounds. 
These  were  tempting  profits  even  to  Dutch 
millionaires  and  Reformed  Dutch  church-mem 
bers.  Since  the  island  of  Madagascar  was 
neither  the  Indies  nor  El  Dorado,  people  who 
were  not  ship-owners  or  millionaires  began  to 
make  inconvenient  inquiries.  Talk  of  reform 
troubled  the  air,  and  nobody  talked  more 
loudly  than  the  slow-witted,  honest  Governor. 
His  final  demand  of  those  he  believed  to  be 
as  upright  as  himself,  was  reasonable — or 
seemed  to  be.  Philipse,  Van  Cortlandt,  Liv 
ingston,  Nicholas  Bayard,  et  a/s,  were  to  give 
their  personal  guarantee  that  their  ships  should 
not  trade  with  the  pirates  with  whom  the  seas 
about  Madagascar  were  a  popular  resort. 

Disinterested  travellers  brought  home  wild 
tales  of  the  island  itself.  It  was  a  nest  of 
buccaneers,  they  said,  who  had  married,  from 
generation  to  generation,  the  dark-skinned 
daughters  of  the  natives,  and  their  descend 
ants  plied  no  trade  but  that  of  freebooters. 
Their  vessels  hovered  like  sharks  about  the 
watery  highway  binding  the  West  to  the  East, 
and  preyed  indiscriminately  upon  merchant 
men  of  whatever  nationality.  Yet,  five  out  of 
every  ten  ships  that  sailed  from  the  harbor  of 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       245 

New  York  were  bound  for  this  sea-girt  Ex 
change,  if  the  reports  of  the  Governor's  agents 
were  to  be  relied  upon.  Said  the  ingenuous 
Earl,  confident  that  the  thought  had  never 
occurred  to  his  astute  Holland  friends  :  .  .  . 
"  Such  trading  is  not  piracy,  perhaps,  but  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  much  of  the  merchandise 
brought  to  New  York  may  have  been  obtained 
from  pirates." 

Had  not  the  gentle  suggestion  touched  the 
pocket-nerves  of  those  to  whom  it  was  ad 
dressed,  it  must  have  appealed  to  their  sense 
of  the  absurd.  It  was  notorious  that,  as  one 
historian  puts  it,  "the  whole  coast  of  America 
from  Rhode  Island  to  the  Carolinas  was 
honeycombed "  with  places  of  stowage  for 
smuggled  and  stolen  cargoes.  Sometimes, 
and  not  seldom,  the  freebooters  who  made  use 
of  these,  visited  New  York  in  person,  without 
waiting  to  be  summoned  by  the  solid  men  who 
carried  the  collection-plates  on  Sunday  up  and 
down  the  aisles  of  churches  presided  over  by 
Dominies  Selyus  and  Everardus  Bogardus. 

One  of  the  most  notable  of  the  predatory 
guild,  Thomas  Tew  by  name,  was  a  particular 
friend  of  Governor  Fletcher.  He  was  re 
ceived  at  the  Governor's  house,  was  taken  on 


246       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

an  airing  in  the  official  coach — perhaps  on  the 
fashionable  "fourteen  miles  around" — and 
was  the  recipient  from  the  great  man's  hands 
of  a  tract  upon  "  The  Vile  Habit  of  Swearing." 
Which  incident  would  go  to  prove  that  the 
distinction  and  respectability  of  his  companion 
in  the  drive  were  not  sufficient  to  restrain  the 
knight  of  the  black  flag  from  indulgence  in  the 
seamanlike  habit. 

Bellomont's  mild  intimation  was  hotly  re 
sented  by  his  colleagues.  He  was  accused  oi 
"vilely  slandering  eminent  and  respectable 
persons,"  and  his  reputation,  thus  branded, 
might  have  been  transmitted  to  us  but  for 
\he  fiasco  of  the  Kidd  trial  and  sentence. 

The  story  of  Captain  Kidd  has  a  humorous 
side  to  the  historian  who  sees  it  down  a  vista 
two  hundred  and  one  years  in  depth.  It  was 
sufficiently  serious  to  separate  the  chief  men 
of  the  New  Colony  and  to  drive  the  Gov 
ernor  frantic. 

Robert  Livingston  had  introduced  Kidd  to 
Bellomont  as  "a  bold  and  honest  man,  who, 
he  believed,  was  fitter  than  any  other  to  be 
employed  in  such  service "  as  the  zealous 
Governor  demanded — namely  the  suppression 
of  piracy  on  the  high  seas.  Livingston  had 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       247 

known  the  sea-captain  for  years  ;  in  fact,  Kidd 
had  sailed  the  trader's  vessels  for  him  more 
than  once  or  twice,  and  acquitted  himself 
most  satisfactorily. 

Accordingly,  Kidd  was  put  in  charge  of  an 
armed  privateer  to  hunt  down  and  punish  the 
freebooters  under  a  Royal  Commission.  Such 
men  as  Shrewsbury,  Somers,  Romney,  Orford, 
and  Bellomont,  paid  the  expenses  of  the  expe 
dition  and  were  to  share  two  thirds  of  the 
spoils  taken  from  captured  pirate  vessels. 
The  remaining  third  was  to  go  to  the  King. 
Kidd,  in  a  "  good  sailer  of  about  thirty  guns 
and  150  men,"  sailed  from  London  to  New 
York  in  May  1696,  and  in  due  time  from  New 
York  to  Madagascar.  The  privateersman  had 
unusual  intelligence  and  breeding  for  one  in 
his  rank  of  life,  and  when  the  news  reached 
England  and  America  that,  seduced  by  the 
attractions  of  a  lawless  life,  he  had  turned 
pirate  himself,  taken  unarmed  merchantmen, 
murdered  crews,  and  seized  upon  cargoes,  his 
backers  were  for  a  while  incredulous,  then 
confounded. 

His  defence,  when  he  was  arrested  upon 
his  return  to  Boston,  was  that  he  had  been 
forced  by  a  mutinous  crew  into  piracy,  and 


248       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

had  not  profited  personally  by  his  evil  ways. 
He  was  executed,  without  confessing  his  guilt, 
or  implicating  any  of  the  gentlemen  who  fitted 
out  his  vessel  and  indorsed  his  character. 
In  spite  of  his  magnanimous  silence,  more 
than  one  colonial  magnate  was  openly  accused 
of  having  been  cognizant  of  Kidd's  purposes 
and  having  enriched  himself  by  his  iniquity. 
The  names  of  Robert  Livingston,  the  Philipses, 
and,  oddly  enough,  Bellomont  himself,  did  not 
escape  the  smirch.  Scotch  Robert  seems  to 
have  borne  the  aspersion  with  characteristic 
phlegm  until  Bellomont's  Lieutenant  pushed 
the  conviction  after  his  chiefs  death  in  1701, 
and  actually  suspended  Livingston  from  divers 
and  remunerative  offices.  The  story  of  OAK 
HILL  tells  the  sequel. 

There  is  no  evidence  to  show  that  regular 
proceedings  were  ever  instituted  against  Fred 
erick  (i)  Philipse  or  that  Bellomont's  suspi 
cions  were  more  than  hinted, — perhaps  in  the 
heat  of  his  indignation  at  the  preposterous 
connection  of  his  own  name  with  that  of  the 
criminal  whom  he  had  innocently  aided  and 
abetted.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  animosity 
against  Livingston  who  had  got  him  into  the 
ugly  scrape.  Even  when  Robert  Livingston 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       249 

appeared  boldly  before  the  Governor  and 
Council  and  acquitted  himself  of  all  and  every 
unlawful  and  treacherous  design,  Bellomont 
did  not  withdraw  the  charges.  He  went  so 
far  as  to  declare  his  intention  of  removing 
the  false  friend  from  the  Council,  a  design 
frustrated  by  his  own  sudden  death. 

Bellomont's  allusion  to  the  possibility  that 
Frederick  Philipse's  coffers  were  the  fuller 
for  the  booty  never  accounted  for  by  Kiclcl, 
was  unpardonable  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord 
of  the  Manor. 

"  With  characteristic  reticence  and  cold 
resentment  Philipse  retired  from  any  further 
part  in  public  affairs,"  writes  the  historian  of 
the  quarrel. 

The  sentence  is  tersely  significant.  He 
could  do  better  without  the  government  than 
the  government  could  do  without  his  counsels 
and  his  millions.  An  opulent  Cincinnatus,  he 
lived,  henceforward,  upon  his  estates,  enjoyed 
his  family  and  directed  his  foresters,  millers, 
and  husbandmen  to  their  content  and  his  own 
emolument  until  his  death  on  December  23, 
i  702.  Robert  Livingston  outlived  him  twenty 
years. 

Philip,  the    son    of    Frederick  (i)    Philipse 


250       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

had  died  in  1 700,  and  the  Manor-House  be 
came,  at  the  demise  of  the  late  Lord,  the 
property  of  his  grandson  namesake,  Fred 
erick  Philipse  the  Second. 

Bellomont's  craze  for  the  subversion  of 
manorial  rights  and  for  humbling  the  arro 
gance  of  largely  landed  proprietors,  died  with 
him.  The  River — always  spoken  of  as  if 
there  were  no  other  in  North  America — saw 
brave  days  for  the  next  half-century.  The 
Livingstons  at  Oak  Hill  and  Clermont,  and 
the  Van  Cortlandts  in  their  Manor- House  at 
Croton,  were  suzerains,  each  in  his  own  princi 
pality.  Eva  Philipse,  the  daughter  of  Fred 
erick  (i)  had  married  a  Van  Cortlandt,  thus 
cementing  the  bond  of  interest  and  friend 
ship  already  existing  between  the  households. 
The  De  Peysters  lived  in  ducal  splendor  in 
their  Queen  Street  Mansion,  the  finest  in 
New  York  City.  It  had  a  frontage  of  eighty 
feet  upon  the  street,  was  sixty  feet  deep,  and 
three  lofty  stories  in  height.  There  were 
nine  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  silverware, 
and  a  wealth  of  cut-glass  and  china  that  cost 
quite  as  much,  in  use  in  the  hospitable 
abode,  so  we  read  in  the  family  annals  ;  and  a 
De  Peyster  who  was  made  Mayor  of  New 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       253 

York  was  reckoned  the  handsomest  man  in 
that  city. 

The  Philipse  Manor-House  kept  fully 
abreast  of  its  contemporaries  in  the  march  of 
luxury.  Frederick  Second  had  come  to  a 
ready-made  fortune  and  assured  position,  with 
nothing  to  do  but  to  enjoy  both.  Warned, 
perhaps,  by  his  father's  experience  not  to  mix 
himself  up  in  politics,  or  indifferent  to  the 
statecraft  of  what  was  hardly  more  than  the 
adopted  country  of  one  whose  mother  was  an 
Englishwoman,  and  who  had  been  educated  in 
England  himself,  he  took  no  public  office  and 
devoted  his  abundant  energies  to  the  improve 
ment  of  his  property.  The  mansion,  con 
sidered  palatial  in  his  grandfather's  day,  was 
trebled  in  size.  Sixteen  Grecian  columns  sup 
ported  the  eaves  of  the  porticoed  wings,  and 
the  roof  of  the  central  building  was  capped  by 
a  massive  balustrade  forming  a  spacious  obser 
vatory.  Workmen  were  brought  from  abroad 
to  decorate  the  interior.  The  walls  were 
panelled  in  rare  woods,  and  the  ceilings  were 
fretted  into  arabesque  patterns.  The  marble 
inner  mantels  were  sculptured  to  order  in 
Italy,  we  are  told,  and  imported  through  an 
English  firm.  The  main  entrance-hall  was 


254       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

fourteen  feet  wide  and  ran  the  whole  depth  of 
the  house.  From  this  a  broad  staircase  with 
mahogany  balusters  swept  upward  to  noble 
chambers  that  were  filled  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  year  to  their  fullest  capacity.  In  the 
attics  there  were  accommodations  for  more  than 
fifty  servants. 

The  terraced  lawn,  studded  with  imported 
trees  and  clumps  of  ornamental  shrubbery, 
sloped  clown  to  and  beyond  the  post-road  from 
New  York  to  Albany.  The  family  and  guests 
of  the  Manor- House,  seated  in  portico  and 
grove,  saw  rolling  along  under  the  trees  lining 
the  thoroughfare,  round-bodied  chariots,  each 
drawn  bv  four  horses,  belon^in^  to  the  neis^h- 

o       o  o 

boring  gentry,  and  government  post-chaises 
and  coaches  with  uniformed  guards  on  top 
and  gayly-jacketed  postillions  upon  the  leaders. 
Conspicuous  among  the  fine  equipages  was  the 
splendid  four-in-hand  of  my  Lady  Philipse, 
ncc  Joanna  Brockholls,  whose  father  (an  Eng 
lishman)  was  at  onetime  Lieutenant-Governor 
of  New  York.  She  drove  her  four  jet-black 
stallions  with  her  own  strong,  supple  hands, 
winning  and  maintaining  the  reputation  of 
being  the  most  dashing  whip  of  the  Province, 
until  she  was  pitched  headlong  from  the  box. 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       255 

one  day  early  in  the  seventies,  and  killed 
instantly. 

In  1745,  George  Clinton,  second  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Clinton,  formerly  Admiral  in  the  Brit 
ish  Navy,  then  Governor  of  New  Foundland, 
and  from  1741-1751,  Governor  of  the  Prov 
ince  of  New  York,  held  a  conference  in  Albany 
with  sixteen  sachems  of  the  Six  Nations. 
The  whilom  Admiral  had  a  busy  bee  in  his 
bonnet  in  the  question  of  invading  French 
Canada  with  the  help  of  his  Indian  allies. 
The  conference  came  to  nothing,  and  the 
harassed  official,  on  his  way  down  the  river, 
spent  several  days  at  Philipse  Manor.  A 
pleasanter  method  of  getting  rid  of  care  and 
chagrin  could  hardly  be  devised.  His  host 
was  a  Knickerbocker  edition  of  William  Evelyn 
Byrd  in  wealth,  social  influence,  courtliness  of 
manner,  and  hospitality,  albeit  Byrd's  inferior 
in  scholarly  attainments  and  political  prestige. 

His  English  education  and  family  associa 
tions  bore  fruit  in  his  preference  for  the  Epis 
copal,  above  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church  of 
which  his  forefathers  had  been  zealous  sup 
porters.  His  last  will  and  testament  provided 
for  the  erection  of  St.  John's  Episcopal  Church 
upon  a  suitable  site  of  his  estate.  He  donated, 


256      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

also,  two  hundred  and  fifty  acres  for  a  glebe 
farm,  and  a  handsome  sum  of  money  where 
with  to  build  a  parsonage  upon  the  same. 

His  son  and  successor  Frederick  (3)  was  a 
graduate  of  King's  College,  New  York,  now 
Columbia  University.  Like  his  father,  he  was 
"  a  distinguished  ornament  to  polite  society," 
with  no  political  aspirations,  and  was  well  con 
tent  to  keep  up  in  feudal  state  the  hereditary 
estates  and  to  spend  the  money  his  great 
grandfather  had  made.  In  politics  he  would 
have  liked  to  be  a  trimmer,  and  to  avoid  with 
graceful  diplomacy  the  necessity  of  telling  the 
truth  as  to  his  (perfectly  natural)  royalist  pro 
clivities.  The  way  of  the  neutralist  became 
harder  and  harder  as  the  stir  of  the  times 
waxed  in  tumult.  The  Lord  of  Philipse 
Manor,  nevertheless,  played  his  part  so  well 
that  when  Washington  and  his  staff  were  his 
guests  for  seven  or  eight  days  just  before  the 
battle  of  White  Plains,  October  28,  1776,  no 
suspicions  of  his  loyalty  to  the  popular  cause 
marred  the  comfort  of  the  visit. 

The  south-west  chamber  of  the  mansion  was 
occupied  by  Washington  during  this  visit.  The 
sight-seer  of  to-day  looks  upon  the  unchanged 
shell  of  the  room.  The  four  deeply  embra- 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       257 

sured  windows  are  filled  with  the  small-paned 
sashes  through  which  the  Chief  looked  out 
upon  the  Hudson  and  the  Palisades.  The 
fire-place,  sunken  fully  three  feet  into  the 
chimney,  is  lined  with  old  Dutch  tiles,  blue- 
and-white,  that  tell  now,  as  they  told  then,  the 
story  of  Zaccheus'  tree  and  Moses'  broken 
tables  of  the  law,  varied  by  Holland  wind-mills. 
At  the  very  back  a  movable  panel  of  sheet- 
iron  is  embossed  with  Elijah  and  the  ravens. 
It  bears  the  date  1760.  The  grave  eyes  of 
the  Colonial  Moses  must  often  have  rested 
upon  it  \vhile  he  mused  upon  the  darkening 
fortunes  of  the  Infant  Republic.  Did  a  som 
bre  picture  of  possible  abandonment  and  exile 
for  himself,  and  a  Cherith  unvisitecl  by  miracu 
lous  winged  sutlers,  arise  between  him  and  the 
rude  bas-relief  in  the  October  midnights  when 
the  river  winds  moaned  without  to  the  drifting 
leaves  ? 

A  secret  passage  led  from  this  room — some 
think  through  the  movable  chimney-back — to 
an  underground  retreat  and  a  tunnelled  pas 
sage  to  the  river. 

Frederick  (3)  Philipse  had  three  charming 
sisters  one  of  whom  (Susan)  married  Colonel 
Beverley  Robinson,  a  son  of  the  Robinson 


258       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

who  succeeded  Gooch  as  Governor  of  Virginia. 
Colonel  Robinson  had  fought  under  Wolfe  at 
Quebec,  and  holding,  as  he  did,  a  commission 
in  the  Royal  Army,  sympathized  heartily  with 
the  parent  Government.  At  the  outbreak  of 
the  Revolutionary  War,  he  so  far  sanctioned 
rebellion  as  to  insist  practically  upon  the  en 
couragement  of  home  industries  by  clothing 
his  household  in  homespun,  and  repudiated 
taxed  tea  and  other  foreign  luxuries.  When 
pushed  hard  for  a  declaration  of  his  principles, 
he  could  not  add  to  this  outward  conformity 
to  colonial  usages  the  assertion  that  he  be 
lieved  in  the  open  separation  of  the  provinces 
from  the  crown.  The  time  for  half-way  meas 
ures  had  passed,  and  "  trimming"  was  so  far 
out  of  fashion  that  he  was,  early  in  the  war, 
obliged  to  leave  his  beautiful  country-seat, 
"  Beverley  " — a  present  to  his  wife  from  her 
father,  the  second  Frederick  Philipse — and 
remove,  first,  to  the  city  of  New  York,  then 
to  England. 

His  son,  Frederick  Robinson,  was  knighted 
for  gallant  service  in  the  British  army,  and 
sent  back  to  America  as  Governor  of  Upper 
Canada  in  1815.  There  is  a  pretty  story  of  a 
visit  paid  by  him  to  his  birth-place,  Beverley, 


FIRE-PLACE   IN   THE   ''WASHINGTON  CHAMBER"   OF  PHILIPSE    MANOR-HOUSE. 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       261 

and  how  the  stout  heart  of  the  soldier  melted 
into  tears  at  sight  of  the  remembered  beauties 
of  his  boyhood's  home. 

A  second  son  of  Beverley  Robinson, — Wil 
liam  Henry, — was  likewise  knighted.  His  wife 
was  an  American  beauty,  the  daughter  of 
Cortlandt  Skinner  of  New  Jersey. 

Mary  Philipse  is  better  known  in  romantic 
history  than  her  sisters  by  reason  of  the 
romance  connecting  her  name  with  that  of 
George  Washington.  In  1756,  the  young 
Virginia  Colonel,  then  commanding  on  the 
frontier  of  the  British  provinces  in  America, 
made  a  journey  from  his  native  state  to 
Boston  on  military  business.  While  in  New 
York  City  he  was  the  guest  of  his  compatriot, 
Colonel  Beverley  Robinson,  at  the  town  house 
of  the  latter.  Mary  Philipse  was  staying  with 
her  sister  Susan  at  the  time.  Her  bright  eyes 
are  said  to  have  wrought  such  mischief  upon  the 
affections  of  the  distinguished  visitor  as  had 

o 

another  Mary's  eight  years  before,  when,  as  a 
raw-boned  Westmoreland  lad,  Washington 
met  the  beautiful  sister  of  Sally  (Cary)  Fair 
fax  at  the  Fairfax  homestead  of  Belvoir,  in 
Virginia.  Some  say  that  the  Maries  were 
alike  in  their  non-appreciation  of  the  love-lorn 


262       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

wooer.  Others  are  of  opinion  that,  in  Miss 
Philipse's  case,  the  affair  never  came  to  a  head, 
and  that  in  the  encounter  of  girlish  coquetry 
and  Southern  gallantry,  "nobody was  hurt." 

She  knew  her  own  mind  and  acted  upon  it 
when  Roger  Morris — who  had  borne  arms 
under  Bracldock  and  fought  side  by  side  with 
Washington  at  the  fateful  battle  of  Mononga- 
hela,  on  the  ninth  clay  of  July,  1755 — sued  for 
her  hand.  It  is  quite  within  the  range  of 
probability,  and  the  coincidence  that  makes 
up  the  most  dramatic  situations  of  human  life, 
that  the  two  young  men  may  have  fought  the 
battle  over  again  in  Beverley  Robinson's  New 
York  house. 

The  marriage  of  Mary  Philipse  and  Roger 
Morris  was  celebrated  with  great  splendor  at 
Philipse  Manor  in  1758.  Shortly  afterward, 
the  bridegroom  set  about  building  upon  Har 
lem  Heights  what  was  afterward  known  as 
Fort  Washington,  and  later,  as  the  Jumel 
House.  In  1776,  the  Morrises,  being  Roy 
alists,  were  driven  from  their  elegant  home  by 
the  advance  of  the  American  forces  under 
General  Washington.  The  military  encamp 
ment  on  Harlem  Heights  followed  hard  upon 
the  flight  of  the  owners  of  the  mansion  to 


MANTEL  AND  SECTION  OF  CEILING  IN   DRAWING-ROOM  OF  PHILIPSE   MANOR-HOUSE. 

263 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       265 

Beverley  which  was  still  occupied  by  the 
Robinsons.  Washington's  headquarters  were 
in  the  deserted  Harlem  house. 

Another  irony  of  fate,  at  which  the  grim 
beldam  herself  must  have  smiled,  came  about 
near  the  same  date.  Mrs.  Roger  Morris  had 
inherited  from  a  bachelor  uncle  an  extensive 
tract  of  New  York  lands,  including  Lake 
Mahopac.  It  was  her  custom  to  spend  a, 
month  or  six  weeks  of  each  summer  there, 
Before  and  after  her  marriage,  living  and 
working  among  her  humble  tenants.  Her 
home  was  in  a  log-hut  built  as  a  hunting-lodge 
by  her  uncle,  and  she  attended  church  in  the 
loft  of  the  "  Red  Mill "  belonging  to  the 
Philipses.  The  spirit  and  conduct  of  these 
vacations  foreshadowed  the  College  Settle 
ments  and  Rivington  Street  Homes  of  to 
day. 

This  same  Red  Mill  became  a  store-house 
for  the  commissary  supplies  of  the  American 
army,  and  Washington  passed  more  than  one 
night  in  the  lodge  that  had  so  often  sheltered 
the  fair  head  of  his  putative  Dulcinea. 

In  17/9,  Frederick  (3)  Mary  Morris's 
brother,  was  formally  attainted  of  treason  and 
his  manorial  estates  were  confiscated.  The 


266       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

same  catastrophe  befell  Beverley  and  other  of 
the  Robinsons'  possessions.  I  cannot  refrain 
from  relating  in  connection  with  Beverley  an 
incident  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  the  im 
portance  and  dramatic  intensity  of  which  have 
had  but  a  passing  comment  from  historians. 

When  Arnold,  then  in  command  of  West 
Point,  met.  Washington,  Hamilton,  and  Lafay 
ette  in  conference  at  King's  Ferry,  down  the 
river,  April  1 7,  1 780,  he  had  in  his  pocket,  or 
so  he  alleged,  a  letter  from  "  Colonel  Beverley 
Robinson's  agent,"  relative  to  the  confiscation 
of  his  client's  country-seat,  and  begging  that 
he  might  have  an  interview  with  General  Ar 
nold  on  the  subject,  under  the  protection  of  a 
flag-of-truce. 

Hamilton's  clear  legal  mind  had  the  answer 
ready  by  the  time  Arnold  ceased  speaking. 

The  question  was  one  for  a  civil  court,  and 
not  for  a  military  commission,  he  said,  con 
cisely,  and  put  an  end  to  the  discussion. 

Lafayette,  moved  perhaps  by  the  discom 
fiture  which  Arnold  could  not  wholly  conceal, 
tried  to  turn  the  matter  off  with  a  jest. 

"  Since  you  are  in  correspondence  with  the 
enemy,  General  Arnold," — in  his  French  accent 
and  in  his  most  debonaire  manner — "will  you 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       267 

have  the  kindness  to  inquire  of  them  what  has 
become  of  the  French  squadron  we  have  been 
looking  for  since  many  days  ?  " 

Had  the  petition  of  Colonel  Robinson's 
"  agent  "  as  presented  by  Arnold,  been  granted, 
the  interview  with  Andre  would  have  been  held 
under  a  flag-of-truce  and  by  permission  of  the 
Commancler-in-Chief  of  the  American  armies. 
Washington  sent  word  a  few  hours  in  advance 
of  his  arrival,  that  he  would  breakfast  with 
General  and  Mrs.  Arnold  at  Beverley  on  the 
very  day  secretly  appointed  by  Arnold  for  the 
passage  of  General  Clinton's  ship  up  the  river 
and  the  surrender  of  West  Point.  Before 
Washington  reached  the  house,  word  of  Andre's 

O 

capture  was  brought  to  the  traitor  and  he  made 
his  escape.  Andre  was  taken  as  a  prisoner, 
first  to  Beverley — then  to  Tappan  where  he 
was  executed. 

In  1/85,  the  confiscated  Philipse  Manor- 
House  tract  was  cut  up  into  lots  and  sold  by 
the  State  of  New  York.  The  mansion  and 
grounds  were  bought  by  Cornelius  P.  Low,  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  the  fast- growing  town  on 

J  O  O 

Manhattan  Island.  He  never  occupied  it. 
The  purchase  was  either  a  freak  of  fancy  or  a 
speculation.  The  place  was  sold  over  and 


268      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

over  again  in  the  next  fifty  years.  The  longest 
tenancy  by  any  one  family  was  twenty-nine 
years.  It  was  at  last  bought  by  the  town  of 
Yonkers  and  converted  into  a  City  Hall. 

A  tablet  in  the  front  hall  states  that  the 
house  was  built  in  1682  ;  was  created  Manor 
of  Philipseburg  in  1693  ;  confiscated  to  the 
U.  S.  Government  in  1779,  and  sold  by  the 
same  in  1785  ;  that  it  was  occupied  as  a  private 
residence  until  the  town  of  Yonkers  bought  it 
in  1868,  became  the  City  Hall  in  1872,  and 
that  a  Bi-centennial  Celebration  was  held  here 
in  1882.  The  inscription  outlines  the  history 
of  the  venerable  structure  which  is  still  in  ex 
cellent  preservation.  The  immense  front-door 
— cut  in  two,  half-way  up,  after  the  Dutch  fash 
ion  revived  by  the  architects  of  modern  subur 
ban  villas — swings  upon  the  same  hinges  as 
when  the  clumsy  wrought  iron  latch,  a  foot 
long,  was  lifted  by  the  hand  of  the  second 
Frederick  in  his  goings-out  and  comings-in, 
and  the  wide  stairs,  with  the  twisted  mahogany 
balusters,  echoed  to  the  high-heeled  shoes  of 
pretty  Mary  Philipse  as  she  paced  slowly  down 
to  her  bridal. 

She  married  Roger  Morris  in  the  drawing- 
room  to  the  left  of  the  wide  Dutch  door  with 


MANTEL  AND  MIRROR  OF  SECOND-STORY-FRONT  ROOM  !N  PHILIPSE  MANOR-HOUSE. 
269 


The  Philipse  Manor-House       271 

the  fan-light  on  top.  The  ceiling  is  elabo 
rately  decorated  in  the  much-esteemed  "  putty- 
work  "  of  those  times,  which  is  also  a  popular 
fad  of  ours.  The  four  medallion  bas-reliefs 
are  said  to  be  portraits,  but  nobody  knows  of 
what  members  of  the  family.  Figures  of 
graces  playing  upon  musical  instruments,  strut 
ting  roosters,  and  divers  sorts  of  flowers  and 
fruits,  make  up  a  pleasing  collection  of  sub 
jects,  albeit  incongruous.  The  wooden  mantel 
is  hand-carved  and  supported  by  a  fluted  pillar 
at  each  end.  Across  the  hall  is  the  dining- 

o 

room.  The  oak  wainscoting  has  been  re 
moved  from  the  sides  and  from  one  end.  At 
the  upper  end  it  has  been  retained  and  is  orna 
mented  by  a  medallion  portrait  of  Washington. 
However  wild  may  have  been  the  dreams  of 
the  original  as  he  sat  at  meat  in  the  long  room 
with  his  courtly  host,  they  certainly  did  not 
comprise  the  possibility  that  the  manorial  ban 
quet-hall  would  ever  boast  of  his  likeness  as 
the  chief  adornment. 

Above  the  dining-room  is  the  Common 
Council  Chamber  of  the  city  of  Yonkers.  The 
partitions  of  five  bedrooms  were  removed  to 
give  the  required  length  to  the  official  quarters. 
The  oaken  beams  taken  out  in  the  alteration 


272       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

were  converted  into  desks  and  seats  for  the 
use  of  the  councilmen. 

"  And  many  a  saw  and  plane  were  broken 
on  the  seasoned  wood,"  says  the  intelligent 
janitor  who  shows  the  building.  "  It  was  al 
most  as  hard  as  iron." 

In  a  corner  lies  an  unexploded  shell,  fired 
from  an  English  vessel  and  dug  up  in  the 
grounds  of  the  Manor- House  several  years  ago. 

Above  the  fine  mantel  of  the  large  front-room 
in  the  second  story  are  carved  the  three  feath 
ers  that  have  been  the  coat-of-arms  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales  since  the  blind  old  King  of 
Bohemia  left  his  crest  with  his  dead  body  upon 
the  field  of  Crecy.  On  both  sides  of  the  man 
tel-mirror  run  exquisite  carvings  in  wood  of 
vines,  grapes,  pomegranates,  flowers,  and  birds. 
The  cornice  of  the  room,  like  that  of  the  draw 
ing-room,  is  of  wood  and  cunningly  carved  into 
a  toothed  border. 

Back  of  this  chamber  is  the  southwestern 
room  already  described  in  which  Washington 
slept  while  a  guest  here. 

A  curious  inscription,  framed  and  hung  at 
the  end  nearest  the  door,  is  copied  from  a  tab 
let  in  Chester  Cathedral,  England,  where 
Frederick  Philipse  is  buried. 


Reciiirde     of     His     condvci    <•<>  uiiu.-m  <!.•<! 


tt«ir  Lov*.  ,  ftruJy 

an)   ihe    Briti.sh    ruaffiirf  i.ii,H«  ui>pu.s*>fl,a  t 
•  h-     H  .,  r  .,  r.i   ,,f  Hi«    Life  ,  til-  Ut*tVb*tt^  £U 

^    i  id  Aw^rirjv.ijj.l  f,,r  rluV.  I'../*Jiid  ..'/•.,  Ji  u-  •• 

i    HJ      Unv    i«,   Hi:.   Kiu  ?f  And  C...u«rvH,.u.,s 

I'  i  uf.-ri  ilu-.J,  and   Hit;   Eft  Ale  oa^  ot  -fltcLarj'V.st  iu 

\  .  ».  -i  ,«  k  ,  confeiVaird.  by  O*  pfr««l  L*p'rfl.,  i  MM 
•i    «i,    «     F..^i«r<..Wl»<.uit«Briii.,IiTr,),T.w 
HiiL.Jr   u.i  n    u.     \Vw\ork  in  178311..        i,,,..| 


rjUiaejd    and  fieji..-i<tcf  or,  aa<J  uuiu*  io 
K  u  |..j|.»aviM>;-  jfl  ffisPoprrfTbeluu.l  Him  , 
wJuch  r«v.-rli-  of  fortrur  He  IR>I-,.  wrth 


. 

Him     iLror 
t^  ,;V  of  Life  . 


273 


MEMORIAL  TABLET   IN   PHILIPSE   MANOR-HOUSE. 


The  Philipse  Manor-House 


The  finale  ("Loaned  by  Ethan  Flagg  ") 
signifies  that  it  was  placed  here  by  a  descend 
ant  of  the  defrauded  Lord  of  the  Manor. 
Our  cut  gives  the  testimonial  exactly  as  it 
stands  upon  the  wall  of  an  American  temple 
of  Justice.  Across  the  pathos  of  lines  penned 
in  sad  good  faith,  flickers  a  gleam  of  humor 
that  was  never  in  the  mind  of  composer  or 
scribe,  as  the  reader  contrasts  tablet  with  en 
vironment. 


XII 


THE  JUMEL  MANSION.     ON  WASHINGTON 
HEIGHTS,  NEW  YORK  CITY 

AS  we  have  read  in  the  story  of  the  Philipse 
Manor-House,  the  most  brilliant  wedding 
of  the  year  i  758  was  celebrated  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  that  famous 
homestead  when  Mary 
Philipse  gave  her  hand 
to  Roger  Morris.  The 
bridegroom  was  a  son 
of  Charles  Morris  of 
Wandsworth,  England, 
had  served  under  Brad- 
dock,  and  otherwise  dis 
tinguished  himself  in 

o 

the  British  army.     The 

ROGER   MORRIS  COAT-OF-ARMS.         i       .   1 

bride  was  "a  woman  of 

great  beauty  as  well  as  force  of  will,"  writes 
one  historian  who  cannot  withhold  the  gratui- 

276 


The  Jumel  Mansion  277 

tous  assumption — "  If  she  had  married  Wash 
ington,  some  think  she  would  have  made  him 
a  royalist." 

The  gossip  of  her  conquest  of  the  Great 
Rebel  has  had  more  to  do  with  keeping  her 
name  alive  than  her  "great  beauty"  of  person 
and  strength  of  character.  Mary  Gary,  the 
wife  of  Edward  Ambler,  Gentleman,  was  living 
at  Jamestown,  Virginia.  Colonel  Beverley 
Robinson  whose  father  had  resided  for  a  time 
in  Williamsburg,  then  the  capital  of  the  Old 
Dominion,  might  have  been  able  to  tell  his 
beautiful  sister-in-law  something  of  that  early 
romance  that  would  have  abated  the  natural 
vanity  every  woman  feels  in  the  review  of  the 
"  rejected  addresses "  which  are,  after  a  few 
years,  of  no  value  except  to  the  (former)  owner. 

There  is  no  accounting  for  feminine  taste  in 
the  matter  of  husbands.  Mary  Morris  would 
not  have  cared  a  whit  for  the  old  affair  with 
that  other  Mary,  if  she  had  ever  heard  it 
(which  is  unlikely).  Nor  did  she  envy  the 
Widow  Custis,  although  news  came  to  her 
early  in  1 759  of  another  splendid  wedding, 
this  time  in  tide-water  Virginia.  When  she 
and  her  Roger  took  possession  of  the  fine 
house  he  had  built  for  her  on  Harlem  Heights, 

o 


278      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

she  would  not  have  exchanged  places  with  any 
other  matron  or  maid  in  the  New  World,  or  in 
the  Old.  Her  well-beloved  brother  Frederick 
lived,  literally  like  a  lord,  in  the  dear  old 
Manor-House  under  the  balustraded  roof  of 
which  she  had  drawn  her  first  breath  ;  her  sis 
ter  Susan  was  the  happy  wife  of  a  gallant  offi 
cer  and  the  mistress  of  fair  Beverley.  Neither 
of  these  homes  was  more  beautiful  for  situation 
than  the  newer  mansion  constructed  to  please 
her  fancy  and  to  subserve  her  convenience. 

The  growing  city  of  New  York  was  visible 
between  the  clumps  of  the  native  forest-trees 
which  Roger  Morris  had  the  good  sense  to 
leave  standing  upon  the  spreading  lawn. 

New  York,  at  that  date,  as  a  sprightly  writer 
tells  us,  "  was  a  city  without  a  bath-room,  with 
out  a  furnace,  with  bed-rooms  which,  in  winter, 
lay  within  the  Arctic  Zone,  with  no  ice  during 
the  torrid  summers,  without  an  omnibus,  with 
out  a  moustache,  without  a  match,  without  a 
latch-key." 

It  was  no  worse  off  in  these  respects  than 
older  London,  we  may  observe  in  passing. 
Whatever  of  comfort  and  luxury  pertained  to 
the  age  was  as  much  Mrs.  Morris's  as  if  her 
husband's  domain  were  a  dukedom  on  the 


The  Jumel  Mansion  279 

other  side  of  the  water.  The  dearth  of  bath 
rooms  and  latch-keys  was  not  felt  by  those 
who  had  never  heard  of  such  alleviations  of 
ancient  and  honorable  inconveniences.  New 
York  represented  Society  to  the  dwellers  upon 
the  wooded  heights  of  Harlem.  The  circle, 
made  up  of  DePeysters,  DeLanceys,  Bayards, 
Van  Cortlandts,  Livingstons,  and  the  like,  was 
a  fit  setting  for  such  gems  as  the  Philipse  sis 
ters.  In  the  torrid  summers,  the  hill-top 
crowned  by  Beverley,  and  the  forest  lands 
about  Lake  Mahopac  wooed  the  owners  to  re 
treats  that  were  as  truly  home  as  the  city  and 
suburban  mansions. 

For  all  that  has  reached  us  to  the  contrary, 
the  bright,  brave  woman  who  led  the  fashions 
in  New  York  for  three  quarters  of  the  year, 
and  played  Lady  Bountiful  to  her  Putnam 
County  tenants  from  July  to  October,  had  few 
crooks  in  the  lot  to  which  Roger  Morris  had 
called  her,  until  the  war-cloud  burst  above  her 
very  head. 

When  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
American  forces  sat  down  to  supper  on  the 
evening  of  September  21,  1776,  at  the  table 
that  had  been  presided  over  for  eighteen  years 
by  the  handsomest  of  his  alleged  loves,  the 


280      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

homestead  was  already  only  the  "  deserted 
house  of  Colonel  Roger  Morris,  Tory."  The 
warrior  had  other  things  upon 
his  mind  than  loverly  reminis 
cences.  The  shadows  which 
made  yet  more  serious  a  visage 
rarely  lighted  by  a  smile  during 
those  crucial  days,  were  called 
up  by  practical  and  present 

ROGER   MORRIS.  -,    i  T1T1    ••,       ,    •      -,  -, 

troubles.  While  his  head-quart 
ers  were  in  the  Morris  House,  the  number  of 
soldiers  under  his  command  was  not  twenty- 
four  thousand,  all  told.  Of  these,  seven  thou 
sand  were  sick  or  disabled,  leaving  less  than 
eighteen  thousand  fit  for  duty. 

Rebel  and  Republican  'though  he  was, 
Washington  was  a  patrician  at  heart.  Not  the 
least  of  the  minor  worries  that  chased  laughter 
from  his  lips  and  sleep  from  his  pillow,  at  this 
juncture  of  his  fortunes,  was  the  indifferent 
quality  of  those  next  to  him  in  command. 
The  privates  were  better-born  and  bred,  as 
a  rule,  than  their  officers.  When  a  Briga 
dier  General  pulled  off  his  coat  at  the  mess- 
table  and  carved  a  baron  of  beef  in  his  shirt 
sleeves,  and  a  Captain  of  horse  in  a  Connecti 
cut  regiment  shaved  a  private  soldier  on  the 


The  Jumel  Mansion  281 

parade-ground  right  under  the  windows  of  the 
drawing-room,  all  the  gentleman  and  the  marti 
net  within  the  Master  of  Mt.  Vernon,  revolted. 
He  was,  throughout  his  eventful  life,  the 
devotee  of  order  and  the  disciple  of  routine, 
fastidious  in  his  personal  habits,  and  jealous 
for  the  dignity  of  rank.  Adjutant-General 
Reed  is  our  authority  for  the  shaving-scene, 
and  the  date  was  October  5,  1776. 

A  general  slipshoddiness  pervaded  the  army, 
from  the  officers  down  to  the  pickets,  who 
scraped  acquaintance  with  the  British  sentinels 
on  the  other  side  of  the  creek  and  bartered 
chews  of  tobacco  with  them  by  weighting  the 
quids  with  pebbles  and  flinging  them  across 
the  water.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  reflect  how 
the  homestead  fared  during  the  occupancy  of 
such  officers,  and  what  ruin  must  have  been 
wrought  in  the  beautiful  grounds. 

Fourteen  years  afterward,  we  find  Washing 
ton  once  more  at  the  Morris  House. 

In  the  Presidential  diary  of  July  10,  1790,  is 
this  entry,  made  in  the  formal,  colorless  style 
of  the  distinguished  penman  : 

"  Having  formed  a  party  consisting  of  the  Vice-Presi 
dent,  his  lady,  and  Miss  Smith,  the  Secretaries  of  State, 
Treasury,  and  War,  and  the  ladies  of  the  two  latter,  with 


282       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

all  the  gentlemen  of  my  family,  Mrs.  Lear  and  the  two 
children,  we  visited  the  old  position  of  Fort  Washington, 
and  afterwards  dined  on  a  dinner  prepared  by  Mr. 
Marriner  at  the  house,  lately  Colonel  Roger  Morris',  but 
confiscated  and  in  occupation  by  a  common  farmer." 

The  plebeian  agriculturist,  having  prepared 
at  his  house  the  dinner  on  which  the  august 
personages  were  to  dine,  would  have  had  them 
eat  it  in  doors,  we  gather  from  other  sources, 
but  the  visitors,  the  like  of  which  had  never 
sat  down  to  his  board,  insisted  upon  turning 
the  affair  into  a  picnic.  The  collation  was 
spread  upon  the  grass  under  the  trees,  and  to 
the  amazement  and  chagrin  of  the  bovine 
host  (?)  the  Chief  Magistrate  and  his  following 
partook  of  it  as  Mr.  Marriner  was  used  to  see 
his  laborers  devour  bread  and  cold  pork  in  the 
"  nooning." 

The  "we"  of  the  aforesaid  diary  was  not 
official,  but  conjugal,  and  "  the  two  children  " 
were  My  Lady  Washington's  grandson  and 
granddaughter.  Reminiscences  of  the  messes 
and  councils,  the  dreading  and  the  planning  of 
1 776  must  have  slipped  into  the  lively  luncheon 
talk.  It  is  within  the  bounds  of  probability 
that  a  thought  of  the  dethroned  lady  of  the 
manor  may  have  won  a  stifled  sigh  from  Roger 


HENRY  QAQE   MORRIS,    REAR-ADMIRAL   IN   THE   BRITISH    NAVY. 
283  (SON   OF   ROGER  AND   MARY   MORRIS.) 


The  Jumel  Mansion 


285 


Morris's  former  brother-in-arms  and  her  quon 
dam  admirer,  in  the  reflection  of  her  changed 
estate  in  exile  and  comparative  poverty. 

Mary  Morris  died  in   London  at  the  great 
age  of  ninety-five,  in  1825. 

The  house  built 
for  her  by  her  bride 
groom,  and  in  which 
she  spent  eighteen 
happy  years,  was 
sold  by  the  United 
States  government 
toJohnJacobAstor. 
In  1810  it  passed 
into  the  hands  of 
Stephen  Jumel,  a 
New  York  mer 
chant,  although  by 
birth  a  Frenchman. 
When  a  mere  boy 
he  had  emigrated 
to  San  Domingo 

and  there  became  an  opulent  coffee-planter. 
About  the  time  that  Farmer  Marriner  was 
entertaining  his  great  folks  upon  the  lawn  at 
Fort  Washington,  the  future  master  was  a 
beggared  fugitive,  skulking  in  woods  and  be- 


MARY  CPHILIPSE)   MORRIS 
(AT  THE  AGE  OF  95). 


286       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

hind  sand-hills  to  escape  the  fury  of  the  insur 
gent  blacks.  More  fortunate  than  most  of  his 
fellow-planters,  he  attracted  the  notice  of  a 
passing  vessel  and  was  taken  on  board.  At 
St.  Helena,  the  first  port  touched  by  the  ves 
sel  after  leaving  the  island,  he  went  ashore, 
and  in  one  way  and  another,  made  money 
enough  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  so,  to  take 
him  to  New  York.  Upon  his  arrival  in  that 
city  he  found  that  a  cargo  of  coffee,  shipped 
from  San  Domingo  on  the  eve  of  the  insurrec 
tion,  had  been  received  by  the  consignees, 
and  that  the  proceeds  awaited  his  pleasure. 
The  unexpected  flotsam  and  jetsam  was  the 
nucleus  of  a  fortune  that  ranked  him  in  due 
time  among  the  merchant  princes  of  New 
York. 

He  married,  April  7,  1804,  Miss  Eliza 
Bowen  of  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  a  beauti 
ful  blonde,  with  a  superb  figure  and  graceful 
carriage.  At  the  elate  of  the  marriage  her 
physical  charms  were  in  the  glory  of  early  ma 
turity.  She  was  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
having  been  born  April  2,  1777.  M.  Jumel 
was  nearing  his  fiftieth  birthday,  but  alert, 
vigorous,  and  courtly,  and  passionately  enam 
ored  of  his  bride. 


The  Jumel  Mansion  287 

The  marriage  was  solemnized  at  St.  Peter's 
Church,  in  Barclay  Street,  and  the  wedding- 
party  drove  from  the  church  door  to  an  elegant 
house  on  Bowling  Green  which  M.  Jumel  had 
purchased  and  fitted  up  with  express  reference 
to  the  taste  and  comfort  of  his  prospective 
wife.  There  were  present  at  the  wedding- 
breakfast  a  few  intimate  friends  of  the  happy 
couple,  including  the  French  Consul  and  the 
priest  who  had  performed  the  ceremony,  the 
bridegroom  being  a  Roman  Catholic.  A  corps 
of  West  Indian  servants  waited  at  table  and  in 
the  house.  M.  Jumel  would  have  no  others 
when  he  could  get  these. 

The  feast  over  and  the  guests  dispersed,  he 
invited  his  bride  to  accompany  him  in  a  drive 
"  into  the  country,"  stating  that  a  friend  had 
lent  him  carriage,  horses,  and  coachman  for 
this  occasion.  The  excursion  took  in  the  pres 
ent  site  of  the  City  Hall,  but  could  hardly  have 
led  them  so  far  as  the  shaded  roads  dividing 
the  farms  above  Twenty-third  Street. 

As  they  alighted  at  their  own  door  on  their 
return,  M.  Jumel  inquired  : 

"  How  are  you  pleased  with  the  carnage  and 
horses  ?  "  and  upon  receiving  the  answer,  re 
plied,  gallantly  : 


288       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  They  are  yours,  my  dear." 

The  chariot  cost  eight  hundred  dollars,  a 
frightful  sum  in  the  ears  of  the  economist  who 
reflects  upon  the  value  of  a  dollar  at  that  time. 
The  gift  was  an  earnest  of  the  lavish  generos 
ity  displayed  toward  his  wife  for  the  almost 
thirty  years  of  their  wedded  life.  She  was 
clever,  energetic,  and  ambitious.  He  recog 
nized  her  intellectual  ability,  and  encouraged 
her  in  the  course  of  reading  and  study  which 
she  began  forthwith  in  order  to  fit  herself  for 
the  position  he  had  given  her.  She  learned  to 
speak  French  like  a  native,  her  musical  skill 
was  above  mediocrity  ;  in  conversation  she  was 
not  surpassed  in  brilliant  effects  and  sterling 
sense  by  any  woman  in  her  circle,  than  which 
there  was  no  better  in  New  York.  In  busi 
ness  affairs  she  was  her  husband's  co-adviser, 
and,  as  the  future  was  to  prove,  his  equal  in 
commercial  sagacity.  In  1812,  M.  Jumel  re 
tired  from  the  active  cares  of  business  life  and 
set  about  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  immense 
fortune  he  had  amassed. 

His  permanent  residence  had  been  for  two 
years  at  Fort  Washington,  as  it  was  still  called. 
His  family  consisted  of  his  wife  and  Madame's 
young  niece,  whom  the  childless  couple  had 


The  Jumel  Mansion  289 

adopted,  and  the  house  was  continually  full  of 
company. 

44  Among  the  celebrities  who  have  visited 
this  mansion  were  Louis  Philippe,  Lafayette, 
Talleyrand,  Joseph  Bonaparte,  Louis  Napo 
leon,  Prince  de  Joinville,"  etcetera. 

The  list,  drawn  from  family  papers,  is  too 
long  to  be  copied  here.  From  the  same  source 
we  learn  that  Louis  Napoleon  was  a  guest  here 
while  a  poverty-stricken  exile,  and  that  M.  Ju 
mel  lent  him  money,  a  benefaction  gratefully 
recollected  when  the  emigrt  was  elevated, 
first,  to  the  Presidency,  then  to  the  Imperial 
throne. 

Turning  the  pages,  our  eyes  are  arrested  by 
a  startling  paragraph  : 

"  M.  Jumel  was  an  ardent  Bonapartist,  and 
in  1815,  on  the  first  day  of  June,  sailed  in  his 
own  ship,  The  Eliza  "  (named  for  his  wife)  "  to 
France  with  his  wife  and  her  niece,  who  was  a 
young  miss,  with  the  idea  of  bringing  the  fallen 
Emperor  to  this  country." 

The  sum  which  the  French  millionaire  was 
ready  to  invest  in  the  desperate  enterprise,  was 
said  to  represent  the  half  of  his  fortune. 

"  On  arriving,  he  proffered  the  Emperor 
safe  conduct  to  America,  and  an  asylum  there. 


290      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Napoleon  returned  M.  Jumel  his  heartfelt 
thanks,  but  declined  to  attempt  the  escape." 

The  transaction  in  Emperors  might  have 
been  unfortunate  for  the  Bonapartist  financier 
but  for  the  popularity  and  finesse  of  his  clever 
wife.  The  Marquis  de  Cubieres  had  been  be 
friended  by  the  Jumels  when  a  penniless  emigre 
in  America,  and  he  was  high  in  favor  with 
Charles  X.  Madame  speedily  became  a  favor 
ite  at  Court ;  the  most  distinguished  people 
flocked  to  her  salon,  and  she  kept  on  excellent 
terms  with  all  political  parties.  With  rare 
skill  she  avoided  the  chance  of  disagreeable 
encounters  by  inviting  Bourbon  and  Bonaparte 
partisans  upon  different  evenings.  It  was  a 
bold  game,  but  she  proved  herself  adequate  to 
cope  with  hazards  and  to  conquer  difficulty. 

For  five  years  she  revolved  and  sparkled  in 
the  orbit  defined  by  her  genius,  and  in  which 
her  husband's  wealth  enabled  her  to  move. 

She  is  reported  to  have  said,  in  after  days, 
that  she  had  never  really  lived  except  during 
that  enchanting  semi-decade.  In  beauty,  wit, 
and  the  tactful  address  innate  with  the  Parisian 
woman  of  the  world,  and  seldom  acquired  by 
those  who  are  not  born  with  it,  she  developed 
like  a  splendid  tropical  flower  brought  suddenly 


The  Jumel  Mansion  291 

into  the  sunshine.  Henceforward,  and  to  the 
end  of  her  life,  she  was  the  Frenchwoman, 
with  few  traces  of  the  New  York  millionaire's 
wife  in  carriage  and  speech,  and  none  of  the 
Rhode  Island  shell  she  had  cast  away  when 
she  married  M.  Jumel.  There  are  many  tales 
of  her  Court  triumphs  that,  however  exag 
gerated  they  may  be  by  much  telling,  bespeak 
the  fulfilment  of  her  ambitions. 

Not  a  whisper  was  ever  breathed  against  her 
fealty  to  her  husband  who,  on  his  part,  likewise 
found  engrossing  and  congenial  occupation  in 
the  French  capital.  The  Government  was  will 
ing  to  borrow  American  gold  upon  favorable 
terms,  and  the  Bourse  was  abundant  in  op 
portunities  to  swell  his  wealth  by  personal 
speculations.  Sometimes  he  made  money, 
sometimes,  and  at  length  with  alarming  fre 
quency,  he  lost  it. 

A  crash  that  sobered  both  husband  and 
wife  came  in  1821 — not  total  ruin,  but  reverses 
that  burned  away  the  showy  husks  and  showed 
of  what  sterling  stuff  the  character  of  each  was 
composed.  Consultations  which  appear  to 
have  been  as  amicable  as  they  were  shrewd, 
resulted  in  a  division  of  labors.  Madame  sailed 
for  New  York,  bringing  great  spoil  with  her  in 


292       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

the  shape  of  furniture,  jewelry,  bric-a-brac, 
laces,  etc.,  leaving  her  husband  in  France  to 
retrieve  their  shattered  fortunes  in  his  own  time 
and  way. 

Fort  Washington  was  hers  in  her  own  right. 
She  forthwith  bestowed  herself  and  her  appurte 
nances  therein,  and  the  New  England  thrifti- 

o 

ness  came  valiantly  to  the  front.  One  of  the 
many  souvenirs,  treasured  by  those  nearest  of 
kin  and  in  heart  to  her,  is  a  pamphlet  bearing 
this  inscription  : 

"  CATALOGUE 

OF 
ORIGINAL  PAINTINGS, 

FROM 
ITALIAN,  DUTCH,  FLEMISH  AND  FRENCH  MASTERS, 

OF  THE  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  TIMES. 

SELECTED  BY  THE  BEST  JUDGES  FROM  EMINENT 

GALLERIES  IN  EUROPE 

AND    INTENDED   FOR 

PRIVATE  GALLERY  IN  AMERICA, 
To  BE  SOLD  AT  AUCTION 

t)N  THE  24TH   APRIL 1821,   AT    IO  O'CLOCK  A.    M. 

AT  MADAM  JUMEL'S  MANSION  HOUSE 

HARLEM  HEIGHTS 

TOGETHER  WITH  THE  SPLENDID  FURNITURE  OF  THE 
HOUSE, 

BY 
CLAUDE  G.  FONTAINE,  AUCTIONEER." 


The  Jumel  Mansion  293 

The  contents  of  drawing-room,  hall,  tea 
room,  dining-room,  blue,  red,  yellow,  and  green 
rooms,  are  named  in  circumstantial  detail,  each 
under  the  proper  head  and  in  dignified,  yet  at 
tractive  terms.  The  auction  was  business,  not 
sentiment,  and  part  of  a  well-concerted  plan. 
The  mistress  of  the  mansion  meant  to  get 
money.  Money,  and  much  of  it,  was  locked 
up  in  such  furniture  as  adorned  few  other 
American  homes. 

Greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  her  heirs,  and 
the  latter-day  lovers  of  historical  relics,  she 
never  cast  down  before  undiscriminating  bid 
ders  the  choicest  of  her  gleanings  over  seas. 

"  At  the  death  of  Count  Henri  Tasher  de  la 
Pagerie,  in  1816,  his  widow,  being  in  strait 
ened  circumstances,  sold  the  furniture  and  jew 
els  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine  to  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Jumel  for  the  sum  of  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars"-— is  an  authentic  memoran 
dum  of  the  interesting  transfer  of  priceless 
valuables. 

When  the  dismantled  mansion  was  refur 
nished  for  the  residence  of  Monsieur  and 
Madame,  eight  chairs  that  had  belonged  to  the 
First  Consul  in  1800;  a  table,  the  marble  top 
of  which  Napoleon  had  brought  from  Egypt  ;  a 


294      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

clock  used  by  him  in  the  Tuileries  ;  a  chande 
lier  that  was  his  gift  to  Moreau  ;  tapestries  and 
paintings  collected  by  Josephine  and  himself; 
a  complete  set  of  drawing-room  furniture  that 
had  belonged  to  Charles  X  ;  a  bedstead  of  ex 
quisite  workmanship  on  which  the  first  Consul 
slept  for  months  ;  his  army  chest ;  his  chess 
board, — on  which  his  fugitive  nephew  was,  in 
time  to  come,  to  play  daily  a  game  with  Ma 
dame  Jumel  with  the  ivory  pieces  designed  by 
the  greater  uncle,  each  wearing  the  Napoleonic 
cocked  hat, — and  scores  of  other  precious  pos 
sessions  before  which  the  privileged  visitor  of 
to-day  lingers  with  gloating  eyes — took  the 
place  of  "beds,  tables,  and  candle-sticks"  that 
had  meant  money  and  brought  it.  Thus  ap 
pointed,  rooms  and  halls  represented  times 
and  destinies,  the  uprising  and  the  downfall  of 
nations.  As  a  whole,  they  were  the  expression 
of  the  deepened  and  enriched  nature  of  the 
woman  who  dwelt  among,  and  in  them. 

The  work  so  bravely  begun  in  the  public 
auction,  was  carried  on  as  bravely.  She  farmed 
the  large  estate  diligently  and  with  profit ;  her 
investments  in  lands  and  stocks  were  judicious  ; 
her  economies  were  ingenious.  Her  husband's 
absence  was  a  valid  excuse  for  absenting  her- 


The  Jumel  Mansion  295 

self  from  the  gay  scenes  she  had  formerly 
adorned,  but  cool  common  sense  and  a  single 
eye  to  business  were  better  reasons  to  the 
practical  side  of  her  for  avoiding  the  expenses 
which  a  contrary  course  would  have  entailed. 
She  was  making  and  saving  money  now,  and 
had  no  leisure  for  costly  frivolities.  The  pol 
icy  of  separation  and  work  that  had  one  and 
the  same  end  was  essentially  French.  Neither 
wavered  in  his  or  her  lot  until,  in  1828,  M.  Ju 
mel  returned  to  America  and  to  his  admirable 
partner,  and  they  began  together  to  enjoy 
what  had  grown,  by  their  united  efforts,  into 
4<  an  elegant  competency." 

M.  Jumel  was  a  strikingly  handsome  man, 
and  retained  to  the  last  the  personal  charms 
that  were  signal  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood. 
His  step,  at  seventy,  was  light  and  quick,  he 
carried  his  head  high,  and  his  back  was  as  flat 
as  a  trooper's.  As  a  waltzer,  the  distingud 
septuagenarian  was  openly  preferred  by  his 
fair  partners  to  any  of  the  younger  gallants. 
The  promise  of  many  years  of  life  and  pleas 
ure  was  before  him  when  he  was  thrown  from 
his  carnage,  May  22,  1832,  and  fatally  injured. 

We  have  no  record  of  Madame's  deportment 
when  news  of  the  accident  was  brought  to  her, 


290       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

or  how  she  bore  the  sight  of  the  gallant  old 
Frenchman's  sufferings  for  the  next  week,  and 
the  death  that  ended  them.  His  remains  lie 
buried  in  the  cemetery  of  old  St.  Patrick's 
Church  in  Mott  Street.  Although  his  wife 
was  a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church  he  re 
mained,  all  his  life,  a  devout  Roman  Catholic. 

She  takes  the  stage  again  in  1 833,  the  cholera 
year  in  New  York  and  the  vicinity.  To  avoid 
the  chances  of  infection  she  planned  a  tour  up 
the  river  as  far  as  Saratoga,  already  famed  for 
its  waters.  Needing  legal  advice  in  the  trans 
fer  of  certain  properties,  she  drove  one  day 
into  town  and  down  to  Reade  Street  where 
she  alighted  at  the  office  of  Aaron  Burr. 

The  duel  between  Hamilton  and  Burr  was 
fought  July  11,  1804,  the  very  year  of  Madame 
Jumel's  marriage.  On  May  22,  1807,  Aaron 
Burr  was  tried  for  treason  in  Richmond,  Vir 
ginia,  with  John  Marshall,  Chief-Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  on  the 
bench — "  a  tall,  slender  man  in  his  fifty-second 
year,  with  a  majestic  head,  and  eyes  the  finest 
ever  seen  except  Burr's,  large,  black  and  bril 
liant  beyond  expression.  It  was  often  remarked, 
during  the  trial,  that  two  such  pairs  of  eyes  had 
never  looked  into  one  another  before." 


297 


AARON  BURR, 


The  Jumel  Mansion  299 

Judge  and  prisoner  thus  confronted  one 
another  for  six  months,  and  Burr  was  acquit 
ted,  free  in  name,  but  a  ruined  outcast, — a 
man  without  a  country.  In  June,  1808,  he 
sailed  for  England  under  an  assumed  name. 
In  1812,  a  paragraph  in  a  New  York  paper  an 
nounced  that  Aaron  Burr  had  returned  to  the 
city  and  had  resumed  the  practice  of  law  in 
Nassau  Street. 

This  summary  of  dates  will  account  for  the 
statement  confidently  maintained  to  be  the 
truth  by  one  who  has  a  better  right  than  any 
body  else  living  to  be  conversant  with  the  facts 
of  the  case — that  Madame  Jumel  had  never 
met,  or  even  seen,  Colonel  Burr,  until  the  day 
of  her  visit  to  Reade  Street.  She  knew  him, 
by  reputation,  as  an  able  lawyer  and  successful 
financier,  and  she  needed  legal  advice  in  the 
settlement  of  M.  Jumel's  estate.  In  talking 
over  the  interview  with  a  confidante  when  time 
had  made  her  an  impartial  critic  of  her  own 
actions,  she  said  that  he  fascinated  her  from 
the  moment  he  opened  the  office  door  to  wel 
come  her,  yet,  that  he  "  inspired  her  with  some 
thing  like  dread."  The  profound  respect  with 
which  he  hearkened  to  her  story,  the  delicate 
flavoring  of  deference  he  contrived  to  infuse 


300      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

into  professional  counsel,  and  which  made  the 
talk  a  conference  of  two  keen  intellects,  not 
the  visit  of  a  client  to  her  adviser,  were  incense 
yet  more  agreeable  to  the  woman  of  affairs. 
When  he  handed  her  into  her  chariot,  and 
stood  with  uncovered  head  upon  the  pavement 
until  she  drove  away,  the  first  step  that  counts 
for  more  than  the  hundred  that  follow,  had 
been  taken. 

She  was  not  an  impressible  novice,  and  her 
projected  journey  was  made  at  the  appointed 
time  without  seeing  Colonel  Burr  again.  In 
company  with  her  adopted  daughter,  she 
travelled  by  easy  stages  as  far  as  Ballston, 
where  she  sentimentalized,  still  leisurely,  over 
reminiscences  of  a  former  visit  to  the  future 
Spa,  when  M.  Jumel  was  with  her,  and  they 
travelled  in  their  chariot-and-four,  with  other 
four  horses  as  relays.  After  a  brief  stay  in 
Ballston  they  went  to  Saratoga.  Before  she 
alighted  from  her  carriage  she  was  pleased  with 
a  hotel  she  chanced  to  espy,  and,  within  ten 
minutes  after  her  arrival,  bought  it  with  the 
furniture  as  a  speculation. 

When  the  city  was  cleansed  of  pestilence  by 
October  frosts,  Madame  returned  in  fine  health 
and  spirits  to  the  mansion  on  the  Heights  to 


The  Jumel  Mansion  301 

find  that  it  had  been  entered  by  burglars  while 
she  was  away.  The  place  was  far  from  civiliza 
tion,  she  now  appreciated,  as  for  the  first  time, 
and  lonely  for  the  niece  whose  lively  spirits 
craved  the  society  of  young  and  gay  people. 
The  drives  in  and  out  of  town  involved  a  need 
less  waste  of  time  and  strength,  when  she  had 
such  a  press  of  business  on  her  hands  as  now 
demanded  her  attention.  She  took  a  house 
in  New  York  for  the  winter. 

Burr  lived,  at  this  time,  in  Jersey  City,  and 
his  law  office  was  at  No.  23  Nassau  Street. 
His  business  communications  with  Madame 
Jumel  were  carried  on  through  a  family  con 
nection  of  the  lady,  in  whom  the  great  lawyer 
became  much  interested.  Madame's  representa 
tive  yielded  gradually  and  almost  against  his 
will — for  he  "  had  heard  all  good  and  all  evil 
of  him  " — to  the  marvellous  magnetism  which 

o 

Burr  exercised  upon  whomsoever  he  willed  to 
win.  Mutual  liking  developed  into  a  friend 
ship  which  subsequent  events  never  under 
mined. 

"  Come  into  my  office,"  said  Burr  to  the 
ambitious  law  student.  "  I  can  teach  you  more 
law  in  a  year  than  you  can  learn  in  ten  in  the 
ordinary  way." 


302       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

He  kept  his  word,  and  he  kept  his  hold 
upon  his  pupil's  affectionate  veneration.  Burr 
may  have  foreseen  the  day  in  which  he  could 
make  good  use  of  the  influence  he  gained.  It 
is  more  likely  that  he  befriended  a  promising 
young  fellow  because  he  was  fond  of  him. 
Youth,  when  coupled  with  talent,  always  at 
tracted  him,  and  since  the  tragic  death  of  the 
daughter  whom  he  idolized  his  heart  had  a  ten 
der  place  in  it  for  the  young.  His  biography 
abounds  with  instances  that  prove  this.  He 
was  now  a  successful  lawyer,  but  he  was  a 
marked  and,  at  heart,  a  lonely  man.  The 
genuine  devotion  of  the  student,  his  rapid 
acquisition  of  knowledge  under  his  chief's  tui 
tion,  his  pleasing  person  and  manners,  made 
sunshine  in  the  darkly  shadowed  life. 

"  The  young  man  went  home  to  Madame 
Jumel  only  to  extol  and  glorify  Colonel  Burr." 

She  was  fond  of  the  eulogist,  who  was,  by 
now,  an  inmate  of  her  house,  and  graciously 
acceded  to  his  suggestion  that  the  friend  to 
whom  he  owed  so  much  should  be  invited  to 
call  upon  and  be  thanked  by  her.  She  did 
nothing  by  halves,  and  now,  as  upon  a  hun 
dred  other  occasions,  the  fulfilment  outran  the 
request  and  the  promise.  Burr  was  no  longer 


The  Jumel  Mansion  303 

prominent  in  fashionable  society.  Born  with 
all  the  elements  of  success,  and  with  the  power 
of  marshalling  these  to  brilliant  advantage,  he 
was  a  conspicuous  failure,  and  he  knew  it. 

To  quote  from  the  reminiscences  of  one  who 
recollected  him  as  he  was  at  seventy-eight  : 

"  He  had  all  the  air  of  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school, 
— was  respectful,  self-possessed  and  bland,  but  never 
familiar.  He  had  seen  a  hundred  men,  morally  as  un 
scrupulous  as  himself,  more  lucky  for  some  reason  or 
other,  than  himself.  He  was  down  ;  he  was  old.  He 
awaited  his  fate  with  Spartan  calmness,  knowing  that  not 
a  tear  would  fall  when  he  should  be  put  under  the  sod." 

This  was  the  guest  (or  so  she  believed)  in 
whose  honor  Madame  Jumel  gave  a  dinner 
party  that  was  spoken  of  as  "  a  grand  banquet." 
He  more  than  justified  the  honor  she  had  done 
him.  The  courtier  and  witty  man  of  fashion 
of  former  days  awoke  within  him,  as  the  war 
rior  starts  up  at  the  reveille.  He  was  the  star 
of  the  feast,  and  captivated  even  his  enemies. 

When  the  hostess  informed  him,  at  the 
proper  moment,  that  he  was  to  take  her  in  to 
dinner,  he  bowed  with  inimitable  grace  : 

"  Madame  !  I  offer  you  my  hand.  You 
have  long  had  my  heart." 

Florid    flattery   was     depreciated    currency 


304      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

when  so  much  was  in  circulation.  The  speech 
passed  for  nothing  with  those  who  heard  it.  It 
was  Burr's  way,  and  Madame's  smiling  ac 
knowledgment  of  the  tribute  to  her  charms 

o 

meant  even  less,  if  that  were  possible.  The 
declaration  did  not  commit  him  to  the  duty  of 
the  frequent  calls  in  town,  and  at  her  country- 
house,  that  followed  upon  her  removal  to  her 
old  quarters  in  the  spring. 

It  is  probable  that  the  offer  of  marriage 
which  he  made  in  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
was  entirely  unexpected  by  the  charming 
widow,  for  her  negative  was  as  prompt  and 
firm  as  if  the  nameless  dread  that  had  been 
the  bitter  tincture  in  the  fascination  of  that  first 
interview  had  driven  out  all  thought  of  the 
sweetness.  The  wooer  took  the  rebuff  gal 
lantly,  and  in  a  few  weeks,  renewed  the  pro 
posal.  The  second  "  No  "  was  uttered  more 
gently,  and  he  pressed  the  suit  without  the 
loss  of  a  moment,  or  an  inch  of  vantage- 
ground.  She  did  not  yield  a  half-inch  in  pro 
testation  that  she  could  never  reconsider  her 
decision,  yet  as  he  took  his  leave,  he  said  in 
his  finest  manner  : 

"  I  shall  call  again  " — naming  a  date — "  and 
bring  a  clergyman  with  me." 


The  Jumel  Mansion  305 

Punctual  to  the  day  and  the  hour  of  the 
afternoon  he  had  set,  Colonel  Burr  drove  out 
to  the  Jumel  House  in  his  own  gig,  stepped 
out  jauntily  and  assisted  his  companion  to 
alight.  This  was  David  Bogart,  D.D.,  of  the 
Reformed  Dutch  Church,  who  just  forty-nin^ 
years  before,  had  married  Aaron  Burr  to 
another  rich  widow,  Theodosia  Provost.1  The 
gentlemen  were  admitted  by  a  footman,  and 
then  began  a  negotiation  so  extraordinary  that 
the  whole  performance  has  been  rejected  as 
mythical,  by  many  who  have  heard  the  story. 
Certain  of  Burr's  biographers  have  passed 
over  his  second  marriage  in  silence  ;  others 
have  broadly  hinted  that  the  ceremony  was 
dispensed  with  altogether  in  the  union  of  the 
heiress  with  the  bridegroom  who  had  counted 
his  seventy-eighth  winter. 

1  Mrs.  Provost  was  ten  years  older  than  Burr,  not  handsome,  but 
singularly  pleasing  in  manner,  accomplished  and  highly  educated. 
He  always  declared  that  ' '  she  was  without  a  peer  among  all  the 
women  he  had  known."  She  died  in  1794. 


XIII 

THE  JUMEL  MANSION 
(WASHINGTON  HEIGHTS,  NEW  YORK  CITY) 

(  Concluded  ) 

IN  writing  of  what  was  not  the  least  surpris 
ing  of  the  events  that  made  historic  the 
mansion  crowning  Washington  Heights,  I 
shall  consult  data  supplied  by  the  nearest  liv 
ing  relatives  of  Madame  Jumel.  If  direct  and 
authentic  information  were  lacking,  I  should 
refrain  from  anything  more  than  a  passing 
allusion  to  the  sudden  nuptials  and  the  rup 
ture  of  the  ill-advised  bonds. 

It  was  an  episode,  but  an  important  one, 
in  a  life  that  was  all  dramatic,  from  the  hour 
that  saw  beautiful  Eliza  Bowen  the  bride  of 
her  mature  and  opulent  suitor,  to  that  in  which 
the  twice-widowed  woman  of  ninety,  majestic 
and  still  beautiful,  lay  in  her  coffin  in  the  Fort 

306 


The  Jumel  Mansion  307 

Washington  "  tea-room,"  and  her  decease  was 
noted  as  the  removal  of  a  social  landmark. 

In  spite  of  Colonel  Burr's  parting  warning, 
Madame  was  totally  unprepared  for  the  appa 
rition  of  an  expectant  bridegroom,  while  the 
message  transmitted  to  her  through  their  com 
mon  favorite,  the  law  student,  to  the  effect  that 
Colonel  Burr  would  wait  downstairs  until  she 
was  ready  to  be  married,  routed  even  her 
matchless  self-possession.  To  complicate  the 
embarrassments  of  the  position,  her  adopted 
daughter  threw  all  her  influence  upon  the  side 
of  the  resolute  suitor.  The  scene  that  ensued, 
as  described  by  one  who  had  it  from  an  eye 
witness,  would  have  been  absurd  had  it  been 
less  distressing.  Madame  was  now  in  her 
fifty-seventh  year,  but  retained  her  fine  figure 
and  noble  carriage,  with  many  vestiges  of  her 
remarkable  beauty.  Her  complexion  was  that 
of  a  girl,  her  blue  eyes  were  unfaded,  her  feat 
ures  mobile,  and  in  expression  exceedingly 
winning.  Hers  was  a  warm,  deep  heart,  and 
the  dearest  things  on  earth  to  her  were  the 
two  young  creatures  who  knelt,  one  on  each 
side  of  her,  and  pleaded  Burr's  cause,  as  she 
sat,  bewildered  and  protesting,  in  her  chair. 
While  the  young  man  praised  him  who,  un- 


308       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

der  her  influence,  would  regain  his  lost  posi 
tion  in  society  and  rise  to  yet  loftier  eminence 
in  the  profession  in  which  he  excelled,  the 
beloved  niece  entreated  her  to  consider  what 
good  would  come  to  the  whole  household  if 
such  a  head  were  given  to  it.  Fort  Washing 
ton  wras  a  dear  and  lovely  home,  but  the  aunt 
could  not  live  there  alone,  especially  after  the 
burglary,  and  they — the  pleaders — could  not 
be  always  with  her.  What  a  comfort  it  would 
be  to  them  to  be  assured  of  her  safety  and 
happiness  in  the  keeping  of  the  gallant  gen 
tleman  who  was  as  brave  as  he  was  fascinat 
ing  !  The  petitioners  had  suffered  more  than 
they  had  allowed  her  to  guess  in  seeing  her 
bowed  almost  to  breaking  by  the  burden  of 
business  anxieties.  The  relief  they  would  ex 
perience  were  these  laid  from  her  dear  shoul 
ders  upon  her  adviser's  ought  to  count  for 
something  in  her  consideration  of  Colonel 
Burr's  suit. 

And  so  on,  and  so  on,  with  coaxings,  argu 
ments,  and  caresses,  until  the  balance  of  the 
cool  head  was  overthrown  by  the  warm  heart. 
The  passionate  exclamation  with  which  she 
finally  drew  her  adopted  child's  head  to  her 
bosom  showed  this,  and  might  have  been  a 


; 


The  Jumel  Mansion  311 

check  upon  the  impetuous  advocates,  had 
their  partisanship  been  less  warm  : 

u  Then — I  will  sacrifice  my  wishes  for  your 
sakes !  " 

Before  she  could  qualify  the  partial  pledge, 
the  niece  summoned  Madame's  maid,  and  her 
self  ran  to  a  wardrobe  for  the  wedding-gown. 
It  was  of  lavender  silk,  softened  by  the  rich  laces 
in  which  Madame  was  a  famous  connoisseur. 

Colonel  Burr  and  Doctor  Bogart  had  been 
in  the  house  for  an  hour  and  a  half  when  the 
stately  figure,  attended  by  the  young  relatives, 
descended  the  staircase.  The  spacious  land 
ings  and  easy  grades  afforded  ample  opportu 
nity  for  a  good  view  of  the  group  from  below. 
Eight  servants,  who  had  caught  the  news  of 
the  impending  event,  were  on  the  lookout, 
peering  in  at  open  doors  and  windows,  and 
saw  the  bridegroom,  with  the  alert  grace  of  a 
man  of  one  third  of  his  years,  come  forward 
to  receive  Madame  at  the  stair-foot.  In  his 
prime  Burr  was  the  handsomest,  as  he  was  the 
most  brilliant,  man  of  his  generation.  His 
black  eyes  never  lost  their  flashing  lights, 
or  his  voice  its  music.  His  smile  was  radi 
antly  sweet ;  his  manner  the  perfection  of 
gracious  courtesy.  He  was  probably  not  the 


312       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

least  "  in  love  "  with  the  woman  he  now  held 
by  the  hand,  but  his  feigned  ardor  was  with 
out  spot  or  blemish  to  the  most  critical  of  the 
group  that  saw  the  twain  made  one  in  the 
name  of  the  Church  and  Heaven. 

The  two  kinspeople  to  whose  fond  persua 
sions  Madame  had  yielded  her  better  judg 
ment,  "stood  up"  with  the  elderly  couple. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  room  at 
the  left  of  the  entrance-hall,  known  in  the 
Jumels'  time  as  "  the  tea-room."  It  was  the 
favorite  parlor  of  Monsieur  and  of  Madame 
Jumel.  There  were  no  witnesses  of  the 
strange  scene  enacted  there  besides  the  two 
attendants  I  have  mentioned  and  the  gaping, 
awe-stricken  servants  clustered  without. 

Madame's  flutter  of  nerves  subsided  before 
the  benediction  was  pronounced.  As  the  ur 
bane  hostess  she  ordered  the  wedding-feast  to 
be  prepared  and  served,  and  made  clergyman 
and  guests  welcome  to  it.  The  burglars  had 
not  rifled  the  wine-vault.  There  were  bins 
and  bottles  there  thick  with  the  dust  and  cob 
webs  of  fifty  years,  and  the  late  master  of  the 
mansion  had  been  a  noted  authority  upon 
wines.  No  choicer  vintage  was  served  in 
these  United  States  than  that  in  which  the 


The  Jumel  Mansion  313 

health  and  happiness  of  the  wedded  pair  were 
pledged  that  evening. 

A  family  joke,  led  on  and  relishfully  enjoyed 
by  Colonel  Burr,  was  that  the  officiating  do 
minie,  underrating  the  potency  of  the  Jumel 
wines,  became,  as  Burr  put  it,  "very  jolly," 
before  the  party  of  five  left  the  table.  Ad 
mitting  this,  we  assume  that  Madame's  coach 
man  was  detailed  to  occupy  the  driver's  seat 
in  the  Burr  gig  on  the  late  return  to  town. 

The  roads  were  rough,  but  not  dark,  for  the 
moon  was  at  the  full.  This  we  know  from  the 
fact  that  it  was  eclipsed  during  the  evening. 
The  wedding  company  watched  the  phenome 
non  from  the  portico,  the  newly-made  husband 
and  wife  side  by  side. 

"  Madame  ! "  said  Burr,  taking  her  hand  in 
gallant  tenderness,  as  they  stood  thus,  "  The 
Americans  will  fear  me  more  than  ever,  now 
that  two  such  brains  as  yours  and  mine  are 
united." 

When  the  news  of  the  marriage  flew  over 

o 

the  city  the  next  day,  there  was  astonishment 
in  many  homes,  and  in  one  such  lamentation 
as  Dido  may  have  launched  after  her  perfidi 
ous  lover.  A  woman,  younger  and  more  beau 
tiful  than  the  heiress  for  whom  she  was 


3H       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

forsaken,  made  no  secret  of  her  love  and  her 
desolation.  And  ^Eneas  was  on  the  inner 
verge  of  his  eightieth  year  ! 

The  wedding-tour  was  to  Connecticut,  of 
which  State  the  bridegroom's  nephew  was  then 
Governor.  The  cares  of  riches  pursued  them. 
A  favorable  opportunity  for  the  sale  of  stocks 
and  other  securities  belonging  to  Mrs.  Burr 
was  embraced  by  her  as  readily  as  if  the  honey 
moon  were  not  in  its  second  quarter.  But 
when  the  money — some  tens  of  thousands  of 
dollars — was  counted  out  to  her  by  the  buyers, 
she  bade  them,  with  engaging  confidence,  give 
it  to  Colonel  Burr. 

"  My  husband  will,  after  this,  manage  my 
affairs." 

According  to  a  rumor  of  the  time,  Burr  car 
ried  the  bills  back  to  New  York,  sewed  up 
securely  in  his  several  pockets — perhaps  by 
the  jewelled  fingers  of  the  over-trustful  spouse. 

The  scene  changes  with  bewildering  rapidity. 
Harlem  was  a  long  way  from  No.  23  Nassau 
Street,  and  Colonel  Burr,  when  once  in  har 
ness,  was,  as  an  acquaintance  described  him, 
"  business  incarnate."  He  absented  himself 
for  days  at  a  time  from  the  suburban  mansion 
now  that  he  had  money  by  the  ten  thousand 


The  Jumel  Mansion  315 

to  invest.  A  project  for  colonizing  an  im 
mense  tract  of  land  in  Texas  was  an  irresisti 
ble  lure  to  his  imagination.  A  quarter-century 
ago,  he  had  burned  his  fingers  to  the  bone 
(figuratively)  with  operations  in  the  South 
west.  Nevertheless,  they  itched  now  to  handle 
projects  looking  toward  the  possession  of  the 
goodly  country.  He  bought  up  shares  that 
would  have  doubled  the  sums  expended  had 
the  bubble  of  Texas  emigration  solidified. 
Since  it  burst  after  the  manner  of  its  kind,  he 
lost  every  cent  with  which  his  wife  had  en 
trusted  him  at  Hartford,  and  more  besides. 

All  this  while  the  other  brain  he  had  taken 
into  partnership  was  void  of  any  knowledge 
of  the  reckless  venture.  Mrs.  Burr — whom 
people  with  difficulty  left  off  addressing  as 
"  Madame  "  —might  have  been  an  illiterate 
housewife,  just  able  to  count  up  on  her  fingers 
the  profits  of  butter  and  eggs  sales,  for  all  that 
she  was  told  of  the  fate  of  her  funds.  Accus 
tomed  to  compute  interest  and  to  negotiate 
loans,  and  conversant  with  the  real  estate 
market,  she  began  to  wonder  what  had  become 
of  the  packages  of  bills  that  had  padded  out 
her  manager's  lean  figure  in  their  homeward 
journey. 


316       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Her  adopted  son  was  commissioned  to  sound 
her  husband  on  the  subject. 

The  smiling  eyes  shone  like  diamonds  as 
the  answer  was  given  : 

"  Please  say  to  Mrs.  Burr  that  this  is  not 
her  affair.  She  has  now  a  master  to  manage 
her  business,  and  he  intends  to  do  it." 

That  word,  "  master,"  left  a  scar  that  never 
healed.  The  blow  was  brutal,  and  brutality 
was  a  novel  experience  to  the  pet  of  fortune. 
She  would  not  have  been  a  woman  of  spirit 
had  she  not  resented  it,  and  she  had  spirit  and 
temper  in  abundance. 

An  altercation,  bitter  on  one  side,  cool  and 
keen  as  ice-needles  on  the  other — followed  ; 
then  a  hollow  truce — another  and  yet  another 
rupture,  until  the  quiet-loving  lord  took  to 
spending  weeks,  instead  of  days,  in  the  Nassau 
Street  office.  The  estrangement  had  lasted 
for  several  months  when  he  had  a  slight  stroke 
of  paralysis  that  confined  him  to  his  bed.  His 
wife,  hearing  of  his  illness,  ordered  her  car 
riage,  sought  him  out  in  his  comfortless  lodg 
ings  and  begged  him,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
to  "come  home."  Her  servants  lifted  him 
into  the  chariot,  and  she  took  him  to  the  house 
on  the  Heights. 


The  Jumel  Mansion  317 

He  lay  upon  the  red  velvet  sofa  that  had 
been  Napoleon's  (still  preserved  by  Madame's 
relatives),  in  the  great  drawing-room  in  the  rear 
of  the  mansion,  for  six  weeks,  in  luxurious  con 
valescence.  Mrs.  Burr  was  his  constant  at 
tendant.  As  he  rallied  from  the  seizure  he  was 
his  old  and  best  self  in  witty  chat  and  gentle 
courtesy.  The  month  and  a  half  during  which 
she  nursed  him  back  to  health  was  the  last 
glimpse  of  even  comparative  wedded  happi 
ness.  Burr's  speculations  continued  to  be  ill- 
judged  or  unfortunate.  His  wife  objected 
strenuously  to  risking  any  more  of  her  money. 
Not  long  after  his  return  to  city  quarters,  find 
ing  expostulations  unavailing,  she  awoke  to  the 
imminence  of  the  peril  to  the  estate  accumu 
lated  by  M.  Jumel  and  herself,  at  the  cost  of 
separation,  self-denial,  and  unceasing  diligence, 
and  brought  suit  for  a  legal  separation. 

While  her  complaint,  dictated  by  her  own 
lips,  entreated  that  her  husband  might  have  no 
more  control  over  her  property,  she  played, 
with  true  French  womanly  art,  upon  his  ruling 
weakness  by  naming  "  infidelity  "  as  the  founda 
tion  of  her  discontent.  The  accusation  that 
the  octogenarian  was  capable  of  kindling  the 
passion  of  love  in  one  woman's  heart  and  jeal- 


318       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ousy  in  that  of  another,  was  a  delicious  tid-bit 
to  the  antique  Lothario's  vanity.  He  made  a 
feint  of  opposition,  but  finally  allowed  the  suit 
to  go  by  default.  He  was  once  more  master 
of  his  time  and  affections.  Madame,  who  did 
not  resume  her  former  name  and  title  until 
several  years  after  Burr's  death,  reigned  again 
the  undisputed  sovereign  of  her  ''mansion." 

The  divorce  suit  dragged  tardily  on.  So 
long  as  each  party  was  unmolested  by  the  other 
neither  took  especial  interest  in  bringing  it  to 
a  close.  Burr  was  actually  upon  his  death-bed 
when  Mrs.  Burr's  agent  hastened  to  Chancellor 
Kent  and  obtained  his  signature  to  the  decree 
in  order  that  the  divorcee  miorht  have  control  of 

o 

her  property.  His  relatives  could  have  claimed 
a  share  in  the  wife's  estate. 

Aaron  Burr  breathed  his  last,  September  14, 
1836,  aged  eighty  years,  seven  months,  and 
eight  days. 

u  The  last  audible  word  whispered  by  the 
dying  man  was  the  one,  of  all  others  in  the 
language,  the  most  familiar  to  his  lips,"  ob 
serves  Parton. 

He  had  motioned  to  his  attendant  to  remove 
his  eye-glasses,  and  "  fixing  his  eyes  (brilliant 
to  the  last)  upon  the  spectacles  in  her  hand,  he 


The  Jumel  Mansion  319 

faintly  whispered  'Madame  !  '  evidently  mean 
ing  that  they  were  to  be  given  to  Madame,  the 
friend  of  his  last  years." 

It  was  supposed  that  he  referred  to  the  host 
ess  in  whose  house  he  had  passed  the  last  two 
years  of  his  life.  She  had  superintended  his 
removal  to  Port  Richmond  where  he  died,  and 
in  parting  he  had  blessed  her  as  his  "  last,  best 
friend." 

When  word  was  brought  to  the  wife — whom 
he  invariably  addressed  as  "  Madame  "- —that 
he  had  passed  away  from  earth,  she  wept  sadly 
and  long.  For  nearly  two  years  they  had  been 
strangers,  never  meeting  in  all  that  time,  but 
she  had  grieved  in  hearing  of  his  sufferings, 
and  was  overcome  by  the  memory  of  the  brief 
brightness  of  their  early  married  life.  She 
always  defended  him  when  his  memory  was  as 
sailed  in  her  hearing,  insisting  that  he  had  a 
kind  heart  and  noble  impulses. 

u  He  was  not  himself  at  the  last,"  she  would 
say.  "  What  wonder  that  he  made  many  mis 
takes  and  had  many  peculiarities  ?  Think  how 
old  he  was  and  how  many  troubles  he  had  had  ! " 

The  chronicle  of  the  succeeding  ten  or  fif 
teen  years  is  pleasant  reading  and  unblotted 
by  calamitous  or  disagreeable  happenings. 


320       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Madame  Jumel's  name  was  the  synonym  of 
generosity,  often  more  impulsive  than  judicious. 
The  open-doored  hospitality  dispensed  in  her 
beautiful  home  was  as  lavish  and  inconsiderate 
as  the  rest  of  her  giving. 

The  many  anecdotes  that  have  come  to  us 
of  this  calmful  period  of  her  varied  career  are 
interesting,  and  some  diverting. 

O '  O 

For  example,  that  connected  with  a  massive 
sofa-bed  of  solid  mahogany,  still  in  use,  which 
stood  in  the  drawing-room,  and  was  often  occu 
pied  overnight  when  the  bed-chambers  were 
full.  One  night  after  Mrs.  Burr  had  gone  up 
stairs,  a  gentleman  asked  for  a  night's  lodging 
at  the  door.  He  was  out  hunting,  and,  night 
coming  on,  he  had  lost  his  way.  Every  bed  in 
the  house  was  occupied  and  the  petition  was 
referred  to  the  mistress. 

"  Don't  send  him  off,"  was  her  order.  "  Pull 
out  the  sofa,  and  let  him  sleep  there,  and  see  that 
he  does  not  go  to  bed  hungry.  Leave  plenty 
on  the  table  for  his  breakfast.  If  he  is  hunting 
he  will  be  astir  before  anybody  else  is  up." 

The  wayfarer  supped,  slept  well,  arose  be 
fore  the  sun,  and  ate  everything  that  had  been 
left  on  the  table  for  his  morning  meal.  In 
departing,  he  gave  the  maid  who  had  attended 


The  Jumel  Mansion  321 

him,  a  louis  d'or  and  left  his  card,  with  thanks, 
for  the  hostess.  It  bore  the  name  of  Prince 
de  Joinville,  third  son  of  Louis  Philippe. 

Joseph  Bonaparte,  then  resident  at  Borden- 
town,  N.  J.,  was  a  frequent  visitor  here  be 
tween  1819-30.  One  afternoon,  as  he  sat  on 
the  portico  with  Madame,  he  repeated  dreamily 
a  French  poem,  which  so  pleased  the  listeners 
that  they  begged  for  an  encore,  and  the 
adopted  daughter  of  the  home  wrote  it  down 
from  his  lips.  The  opening  lines  were 

"  O  charmante  couleur  d'une  verte  prairie  ! 
Tu  repose  les  yeux  et  tu  calmes  le  cceur  ; 
Ton  effet  est  celui  de  la  tendre  harmonic 
Qui  plait  a  la  nature  et  fait  la  douceur." 

The  entire  poem  was  written  upon  a  wooden 
panel  and  affixed  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree  that 
had  shaded  the  speaker  while  he  recited  it. 
It  remained  there  as  a  souvenir  of  the  visit 
until  the  house  passed  out  of  the  family. 

As  has  been  said,  Louis  Napoleon  was 
another  guest  whom  the  Jumels  delighted  to 
h6nor,  even  when  his  fortunes  were  at  the 
lowest  ebb,  and  he  had  accepted  more  than 
one  loan  from  them. 

In  1852,  at  a  ball  given  by  him,  as  President 
of  the  French  Republic,  in  the  Salle  des  Mare- 


322       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

chaux,  Madame  Jumel  was  a  conspicuous 
figure.  She  entered  the  ball-room  upon  the 
arm  of  Jerome  Bonaparte.  Her  gown,  still 
treasured  in  the  family,  was  of  gold-colored 
brocade,  lavishly  trimmed  with  black  Maltese 
lace.  She  chaperoned  on  this  occasion  her 
grandniece,  born  at  the  Mansion,  and  always 
the  object  of  her  fondest  love  and  care.  The 
young  lady,  as  she  was  fond  of  relating  merrily 
in  after  years,  danced  three  times  that  night 
with  the  son  of  Jerome  Bonaparte,  afterward 
Prince  Napoleon  and  nick-named  "  Plon-Plon." 
During  this  foreign  tour — although,  as  her 
yellow  visiting-cards  testify,  the  American  ma 
tron  still  styled  herself,  "Madame,  Veuve  de 
Aaron  Burr  "-—she  began  to  be  better  known 
again  as  "  Madame  Jumel,"  and  retained  the 
name  for  the  rest  of  her  days.  While  in 
Rome,  she  was  persuaded  by  her  relatives  and 
friends  to  sit  for  the  portrait  that  hung  in  the 
main  hall  of  the  Jumel  mansion  as  long  as  her 
heirs  lived  there.  She  was  strangely  unwilling 
to  pose  for  a  likeness,  repugnance  that  in 
creased  with  her  years.  I  say  "  strangely," 
for  she  could  not  have  been  ignorant  that  she 
retained  to  the  last,  beauty  of  a  high  order. 
The  picture  was  painted  by  Alcide  Ercole  in 


The  Jumel  Mansion  323 

1854.  She  was,  therefore,  seventy-seven  years 
old.  The  face  that  looks  from  the  canvas 
might  belong  to  a  well-kept  woman  of  fifty. 
The  expression  is  sweet  and  benignant,  the 
blue  eyes  are  full  and  wistful.  As  she  sits  be 
tween  her  grandniece  and  grandnephew,  she 
looks  the  embodiment  of  tender  motherhood, 
although  she  never  had  a  child  of  her  own. 
Her  satin  gown  is  what  the  French  name, 
" gorge  de pigeon"  in  color,  a  rich,  misty  blue, 
otherwise  indescribable.  Precious  laces,  such 
as  she  delighted  to  collect  and  to  wear,  form 
the  lappets  of  her  cap,  and  droop  over  the 
shapely  hands.  The  poise  of  the  head  is 
queenly,  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  pure  womanly, 
and  exceedingly  winning.  Prince  Torlonia, 
who  was  her  banker  and  friend,  insisted  that 
she  should  be  painted  in  a  chair  brought  from 
his  palace,  and  which  had  once  belonged  to  a 
Pope,  and  took  eager  interest  in  the  sittings. 

We  have  scores  of  tales  of  her  beneficence 
to  the  needy,  her  loving-kindness  to  all  who 
suffered,  of  her  gift  of  one  thousand  dollars  to 
famine-blighted  Ireland  in  1848,  of  larger  and 
smaller  donations,  as  opportunity  was  vouch 
safed  for  the  exercise  of  her  too-generous  dis 
position.  Letter  after  letter  of  regret  and 


324       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

condolence  was  received  when  the  ready  ear 
was  dull  and  the  open  hand  was  cold  in  her 
last  sleep.  Some  are  in  French,  some  in  Eng 
lish.  All  tell  the  same  story.  One,  from  the 
widow  of  Audubon,  begs  to  be  allowed  to  look 
upon  the  face  of  her  dear,  dead  friend.  She 
died,  as  she  had  wished,  in  the  "  Napoleon 
bed,"  and  in  accordance  with  her  expressed 
directions,  her  remains  rested  in  the  tea-roomr 
during  the  last  night  she  spent  in  the  home 
that  had  been  hers  for  fifty-five  years.  She 
died  in  the  eighty-ninth  year  of  her  age. 

A  white-haired  Colonial  Dame,  placid  in  a 
vigorous  old  age,  the  venerable  homestead 
looks  down  from  her  sunny  seat  on  the  hill-top 
over  a  scene  where  naught  remains  unchanged 
•of  what  she  beheld  in  Mary  Morris's  and 
Madame  Jumel's  day,  except  the  broad  river 
sweeping  slowly  to  the  sea.  A  mighty  city 
has  rushed  up  to  her  very  feet.  Of  the  vast 
estate  nothing  is  left  but  the  lawn,  sloping 
away  from  the  building  on  four  sides  to  as 
many  streets  and  avenues. 

Those  who  would  visit  it  are  instructed  to 
look  for  it  "  one  block  east  of  St.  Nicholas 
Avenue,  between  i6oth  and  i62nd  Streets." 

The    present    owner,     General     Ferdinand 


Portrait  of  Madame  JumeL 

From  the  Original  painting  by  Alcide  Ercole. 


miesteads 

hen  the ;  ready  eat 

:nch,  some  in  Eng- 

y.     One,  from  the 

be  allowed  to  look 

•  K-ad  friend.     She 

n   the  "  Napoleon 

: ;!   her  expressed 

!  in  the  tea-room, 

^1  -vnt   in  the  home 

*ve  vears.      She 


stead 
ill-top 


t  nvrer 

jhty  city 

the  vast 

sloping 

es  to  as 


ucted  to 
N  icholas 


The  Jumel  Mansion  325 

Pinney  Earle,  has  rechristened  the  mansion 
"  Earle-Cliff,"  and  on  May  22,  1897,  a  lawn- 
party  was  given  "  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Washington  Heights  Chapter,  D.  A.  R.,  of 
New  York,"  for  the  benefit  of  the  "  National 
Fund  to  build  the  Memorial  Continental  Hall 
at  Washington,  D.  C." 

The  hostess  and  her  aides,  in  colonial  cos 
tumes  and  with  powdered  hair  and  faces, 
received  the  throng  of  guests  in  a  marquee 
spread  in  front  of  the  house  ;  refreshments 
were  served  from  booths  on  the  lawn,  and  the 
great,  square  cards  of  admission  bore  other 
attractive  notices.  To  wit  that, 

An  Interesting  Feature  of  the  Celebration 
will  be  a  loan  Exhibition  of  Revolutionary 
Relics. 

And  that 

A  grand  Lawn  Concert  will  be  given 
during  the  afternoon  by  a  Military  Band,  ac 
companied  by  voices  from  the  Children  of 
the  American  Revolution. 

There  was  music  indoors  also.  Trained 
vocalists  were  grouped  about  a  piano  set  in  the 
open  square  of  the  hall  made  by  the  turns  of 
the  staircase,  and  a  bright-faced  girl  swayed 
the  conductor's  baton,  leaning  over  a  balustrade 


326       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

that  once  knew  the  familiar  touch  of  fair  hands 
which  have  been  dust  for  a  century  and  more. 
Fashionable  folk  strolled  and  chattered  in  the 
dining-room  where  Washington  sat  down  to 
supper,  sad-eyed  and  haggard,  on  the  night  of 
September  21,  i//6,  and  in  the  tea-room, 
beloved  by  M.  Jumel,  in  which  Aaron  Burr 
was  married,  and  where  Madame  lay  in  state 
thirty-three  years  afterward.  And  one  of  the 
hundreds  who  came  and  went  under  the  cloud 
less  sky  of  the  perfect  spring  afternoon,  strolled 
apart  to  a  secluded  nook  of  shrubbery  to  read 
and  dream  over  this  advertisement  printed  in 
the  lower  left-hand  corner  of  the  great,  square 
blue  card. 


Members  of  Washington  Heights 
1  Chapter,  D.A.R.,  are  thoroughly  im 
bued  with  the  spirit  of  Washington  and 
things  and  incidents  pertaining  to  the  Revo 
lutionary  period,  and  the  proposed  fete 
champetre  is  in  honor  of  a  visit  to  the 
celebrated  house  on  Washington  Heights, 
made  by  President  Washington,  accom 
panied  by  Mrs.  Washington,  Vice-President 
and  Mrs.  John  Adams,  their  son,  John 
Quincy  Adams  ;  Secretary  of  State  and  Mrs. 
Thomas  Jefferson,  Secretary  of  War  and 
Mrs.  Knox,  and  Secretary  of  the  Treasury, 
General  Alexander  and  Mrs.  Hamilton.  .  . 


XIV 


THE  SMITH  HOUSE  AT  SHARON,  CONN. 

MR.  HENRY  SMITH  and  his  wife  and 
three    sons,   and    two    daughters,    and 
three    men-servants    and    two    maid-servants 
.   .  .   came  from  Norfolk, 
and  settled  in  New  H ing- 
ham,   1638."     This  is  the 
record  of  the  town  clerk 
of   Hingham,   Massachus 
etts. 

A  family  register  gives 
the  date  (probably  the 
correct  one)  of  1636  to 
the  immigration  aforesaid, 
and  locates  Rev.  Henry 
Smith  as  the  first  pastor 
of  the  Wethersfield  (Conn.)  church,  in  1638. 
Mr.  Smith  was,  we  learn  furthermore,  a  Puritan 
in  England,  while  his  father  and  brother  were 

327 


SMITH   CREST, 


328       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Royalists.  He  resigned  home,  fortune,  and 
family  for  "freedom  to  worship  GOD,"  and 
"  well-proved  the  terrors  of  the  wilderness,"  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

His  son  Ichabod  was  the  father  of  Samuel, 
who  became  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Suffield, 
Conn.  While  there,  he  married  Jerusha^ 
daughter  of  the  celebrated  Cotton  Mather, 
D.D.  Their  son,  Cotton  Mather  Smith,  born 
in  1731,  was  a  graduate  of  Yale  College  in 
1751,  and  in  1755,  being  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  he  was  ordained  to  the  work  of  the  minis 
try  in  Sharon,  Conn.,  being  the  third  pastor 
of  the  (then)  Established  Church  in  that  place. 

His  wife  was  Temperance  Worthington,  the 
granddaughter  of  Sir  William  Worthington, 
one  of  Cromwell's  colonels.  The  provisions 
of  Rev.  Cotton  Mather  Smith's  call  to  his 
first  and  only  charge  are  peculiar  and  inter 
esting. 

"Town  Meeting,  Jan.  8,  1755.  Voted,, 
That  a  committee  confer  with  Mr.  Smith,  and 
know  which  will  be  most  acceptable  to  him,  to 
have  a  larger  settlement  and  a  small  salary,  or 
a  larger  salary  and  a  smaller  settlement,  and 
make  report  to  this  meeting." 

"Town    Meeting,    Jan.    15,    1755.      Voted, 


The  Smith  House  329 

That  we  will  give  to  said  Mr.  Smith  420 
ounces  of  silver  or  equivalent  in  old  tenor 
Bills,  for  a  settlement  to  be  paid  in  three 
years  after  settlement. 

"  Voted,  That  we  will  give  to  said  Mr.  Smith 
220  Spanish  dollars,  or  an  equivalent  in  old 
tenor  Bills,  for  his  yearly  salary." 

Mr.  Smith's  acceptance  of  the  call  contains 
this  clause :  "  As  it  will  come  heavy  upon 
some,  perhaps,  to  pay  salary  and  settlement 
together,  I  have  thought  of  releasing  part  of 
the  payment  of  the  salary  for  a  time  to  be  paid 


to  me  again. 


*  The  first  year  I  shall  allow  you  out  of  the 
salary  you  have  voted  me,  40  dollars,  the  2d 
30  dollars,  the  30!  year  15,  the  4th  year  20,  to 
be  repaid  to  me  again,  the  5th  year  20  more,  the 
6th  year  20  more,  and  the  25  dollars  that  re 
main,  I  am  willing  that  the  town  shall  keep 
'em  for  their  own  use." 

He  discharged  the  duties  of  this  pastorate 
for  52  years.  He  was  distinguished  for  great 
eminence  in  learning,  piety,  and  patriotism, 
and  such  gifts  of  heart,  and  mind,  and  person, 
as  endeared  him  indissolubly  to  his  people. 
The  small-pox  breaking  out  in  Sharon  while  he 
was  still  comparatively  a  young  man,  he  and 


33°      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Mrs.  Smith  separated  themselves  from  family 
and  home,  and  labored  diligently  among  their 
smitten  flock  until  the  pestilence  subsided. 

His  wife  thus  recounts  a  scene  in  the  Sharon 
Meeting-  House  on  the  Sabbath  morning 
chosen  by  Parson  Smith  for  the  improvement 
of  the  text — "  Arise,  O  Lord,  in  Thine  anger  ! 
lift  ^ip  thyself  because  of  mine  enemies,  and 
awake  for  me  to  the  judgment  Thou  hast  com 
manded.  " 

"  Before  the  close  of  the  last  line  of  the 
hymn,  a  messenger  with  jingling  spurs  strode 
down  the  aisle  and  up  the  high  pulpit  stairs, 
where  he  told  the  news  to  my  husband,  who 
proclaimed  in  clear,  ringing  tones  that  the  die 
had  been  cast,  that  blood  had  been  shed,  and 
there  was  no  more  choice  between  War  and 
Slavery." 

Mr.  Smith  himself  volunteered  as  chaplain 
to  the  4th  Connecticut  regiment,  commanded 
by  Colonel  Hinman. 

While  at  Ticonderoga  with  General  Schuyler, 
he  fell  dangerously  ill,  and  "Madam"  Smith, 
"  being  warned  of  God  in  a  dream,"  undertook 
a  journey  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  by 
forest  and  stream,  to  reach  and  nurse  him. 
The  thrilling  narrative  as  told  by  herself  has 


The  Smith  House  331 

been  arranged  and  edited  by  the  graphic  pen 
of  her  descendant,  Miss  Helen  Evertson  Smith, 
under  the  caption  of  Led  by  a  Vision.  I  will 
not  mar  the  remarkable  recital  by  attempting 
to  condense  it  here. 

At  the  date  of  this  act  of  wifely  heroism 
(September,  1775),  the  parsonage  stood  near 
the  "  big  Ash,"  which — to  quote  Madam  Smith 
— ki  had  once  been  the  Council  Tree  of  the 
warlike  Wegnagnock  Indians,  and  now  shaded 
the  cloor-steps  of  a  minister  of  God,  who  was 
perhaps  as  warlike  as  his  predecessors  here, 
though  always  and  only  for  Righteousness' 
sake." 

The  foundations  of  the  lar^e  stone  house  to 

o 

which  the  family  subsequently  removed,  were 
then  rising  above  the  ground  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  "  big  Ash."  They  were  laid,  and 
the  dwelling  completed  by  Dr.  Simeon  Smith, 
a  younger  and  wealthy  brother  of  the  warlike 
pastor. 

Rev.  John  Cotton  Smith,  D.D.,  the  distin 
guished  rector  of  the  Church  of  the  Ascension, 
New  York,  was  a  great-grandson  of  the  Sharon 
divine.  Rev.  Roland  Cotton  Smith,  the  assis 
tant  of  the  late  Phillips  Brooks  of  Boston,  is  a 
great-great-grandson  and  the  possessor  of  the 


332       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

chair  in  which  his  honored  ancestor  sat  to  write 
his  sermons.  His  desk  remains  in  the  old 
homestead. 

In  July,  1770,  Whitefield  preached  in  the 
Sharon  meeting-house,  the  influence  of  Parson 
Smith  having  prevailed  against  the  scruples  of 
those  who  would  have  barred  out  an  itinerant 
from  the  pulpit.  The  catholic  Congregation- 
alist  also  opened  wide  the  doors  of  his  home  to 
his  English  brother,  and  Madam  Smith  nursed 
him  tenderly  through  an  alarming  attack  of 
asthma,  sitting  up  with  him,  as  did  her  hus 
band,  all  of  the  night  preceding  his  celebrated 
discourse  in  their  church. 

He  died  two  months  later,  in  Newburyport, 
Mass. 

John  Cotton  Smith,  the  son  of  Cotton 
Mather  Smith  and  the  "  beautiful  daughter  of 
Rev.  William  Worthington  of  Saybrook,"  was 
a  striking  figure  in  a  day  when  there  were 
giants  in  the  land.  He  was  a  member  of  the 
Connecticut  Council,  twice  speaker  of  the  Con 
necticut  House  of  Representatives  ;  three  times 
elected  to  Congress  ;  Judge  of  the  Connecticut 
Superior  Court;  Lieutenant- Governor  and 
Governor  from  1812  to  1817,  and  the  last  Gov 
ernor  under  the  Charter  of  Charles  II. 


The  Smith  House 


333 


"  To  these  herediments — qualities  transmitted  by  his 
distinguished  parents — he  added  rare  gifts,"  writes  the  his 
torian  of  his  native  State.  "  A  handsome  person,  features 
classically  beautiful  ;  natural  gracefulness,  ready  wit  and 
culture,  ...  a  model  of  the  Christian  gentleman. 

"Without  mingling  much  in  debate  he  presided  over 
it,  and  ruled  it  at  a  time  when  John  Randolph,  Otis, 
Griswold,  Lee 
and  Pinckney 
were  participat 
ors  in  it,  and 
were  willing  to 
submit  to  the 
justice  of  his 
decisions,  and 
free  to  acknowl 
edge  his  superi 
ority  overall  his 
compeers  in  the 
sagacity  and  ad 
dress  that  en 
abled  him  to 
avoid  the  gath 
ering  storm,  and 

the  lightness  and  elegant  ease  with  which  he  rose  upon 
its  crested  waves." 

He  resigned  his  seat  in  Congress  in  1806, 
on  account  of  his  father's  declining  health. 
The  Rev.  Cotton  Mather  Smith  died  Novem 
ber  27  of  that  year,  in  the  /6th  year  of  his  age, 
and  52d  of  his  ministry. 


JOHN  COTTON    SMITH. 


334       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

In  1817,  his  son,  Governor  Smith,  retired 
from  political  life.  He  was  now  but  fifty-two, 
in  the  prime  of  his  glorious  manhood, 

"the  proprietor  of  a  princely  domain  of  nearly  one 
thousand  acres  of  land,  most  of  it  lying  in  the  bosom  of 
his  native  valley,  every  rod  of  which  might  be  converted 
into  a  garden.  .  .  .  From  his  retirement  until  his 
death,  a  period  of  thirty  years,  he  remained  at  home. 
Dividing  his  time  between  scholastic  studies  and  the 
pursuits  of  agriculture,  he  lived  the  life  of  the  Connecti 
cut  planter  of  the  seventeenth  century.  His  hospitable 
mansion  was  always  thronged  with  refined  and  cultured 
guests." 

He  was  also  the  first  President  of  the  Con 
necticut  Bible  Society,  President  of  the 
American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign 
Missions  in  1826,  and  of  the  American  Bible 
Society  in  1831.  His  Alma  Mater,  Yale,  made 
him  an  LL.  D.  in  1814,  and  the  Royal  Col 
lege  of  Northern  Antiquarians  in  Copenhagen, 
Denmark,  a  member  of  their  illustrious  band 
as  late  as  1836. 

Governor  Smith  died  December  7,  1845, 
aged  80  years.  His  wife,  Margaret  Evertson, 
was  descended  from  two  distinguished  Dutch 
admirals,  Evertson  and  Van  Blum. 

Their    only  child,  William    Mather    Smith, 


The  Smith  House  335 

married  Helen  Livingston,  a  daughter  of 
Gilbert  Robert  Livingston  of  Tivoli.  She  was 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  accomplished 
women  of  her  generation. 

Mr.  Smith  was,  like  his  grandfather  and  his 
father,  a  graduate  of  Yale,  and  like  them, 
eminent  for  piety,  good  works,  and  eloquence. 
While  he  was  never  an  ordained  clergyman, 
and  lived  the  life  of  a  man  of  letters  and  a 
wealthy  country  gentleman,  he  fulfilled  the 
office  of  an  evangelist  in  the  highest  and  best 

o  o 

sense  of  the  term.  Fearless  in  duty,  active  in 
all  pious  and  benevolent  enterprises,  he  was 
yet  the  peacemaker  of  his  neighborhood,  be 
loved  and  quoted  by  high  and  low.  His  por 
trait  shows  us  a  singularly  noble  and  benign 
countenance  ;  his  memory  is  fragrant  and 
blessed,  as  is  that  of  the  fair-faced  woman  who 
graced  the  old  homestead  from  youth  to  old 
age. 

Their  three  sons  were  John  Cotton,  Robert 
Worthington,  and  Gilbert  Livingston. 

The  first,  although  a  Yale  graduate  and  a 
lawyer  by  profession,  preferred  to  lead  the 
life  of  a  simple  country  gentleman,  travelling 
much  in  foreign  lands,  but  ever  loving  best  his 
own.  He  was  a  man  of  dignified  presence  and 


336       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

many  attractive  qualities,  and  was  a  remarkably 
fine  and  persuasive  orator.  He  was  many 
times  a  member  of  the  State  Legislature,  and 
for  several  years  filled  the  post  of  U.  S.  Minis 
ter  to  Bolivia,  S.  A.  He  died,  unmarried,  at 
the  age  of  nearly  seventy. 

The  third  in  age,  Gilbert  Livingston,  early 
evinced  the  talent  and  piety  that  had  charac 
terized  the  worthy  line.  He  was  prepared  for 
the  ministry  at  Princeton,  and  called  to  the 
pretty  little  church  at  Carmel,  N,  Y.,  but  died 
of  fever  before  his  installation. 

Robert  Worthington  Smith,  the  second  son, 
received  his  academic  education  at  Williams 
College  ;  studied  medicine,  and  took  the  de 
gree  of  M.  D.,  but  never  practised  his  profes 
sion.  The  traditional  beauty,  with  the  moral 
and  mental  gifts  of  the  race,  found  in  him  a 
superb  exemplar.  To  literary  tastes  and 
thorough  cultivation,  he  joined  a  certain  cour 
tesy  of  bearing,  geniality  of  temperament,  and 
warmth  of  heart  that  won  and  retained  the 
affection  of  those  who  knew  him  best.  Be 
ginning  with  heroic  Temperance  Worthing 
ton,  the  sons  of  the  house  were  especially 
fortunate  in  the  selection  of  wives.  Dr.  Smith 
proved  the  rule  absolute  when  he  wedded 


The  Smith  House  339 

Gertrude  L'  Estrange  Bolden,  who,  in  the  mild 
glory  of  a  lovely  old  age,  survived  him  until 
1894  to  bless  home  and  children. 

Three  children  gathered  about  her  in  the 
spring  and  summer  time  that  throw  wide  the 
doors  of  the  spacious  homestead  and  clothe 
with  beauty  the  environing  grounds  ;  Mr.  Gil 
bert  Livingston  Smith,  Miss  Helen  Evertson 
Smith,  well  and  favorably  known  as  a  writer 
of  strong  prose  and  exquisite  verse,  and  Mrs. 
Gertrude  Geer.  The  family  reside  during  the 
winter  in  New  York. 

The  house  was  built  by  a  Genoese  architect 
and  workmen,  brought  across  the  seas  for  that 

o 

purpose.  They  kept  secret  their  method  of 
mixing  the  cement  that  holds  the  stones  to 
gether.  It  is  as  hard  now  as  marble,  and  the 
rigors  and  damps  of  over  one  hundred  New 
England  winters  have  not  disintegrated  a 
morsel.  The  wing  was  begun  some  years  before 
the  Revolution,  and  the  foundations  were  al 
lowed  to  stand  for  several  months  "  to  season." 
So  effectual  was  the  process  that  not  a  line  is 
"  out  of  plumb  "  ;  each  door  and  window  hangs 
evenly  ;  not  a  sill  or  casing  sags. 

It  is  a  stately  home  for  a  stately  race,  and  a 
history  that  has  not  a  blot.  Every  room  has 


340      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

its  legend.  Upon  the  walls  of  the  sitting-room 
are  the  portraits  of  the  brave  pastor  and  his 
faithful  wife.  His  was  painted  for,  and  at  the 
order  of,  his  parishioners. 

"  Who  insisted  that  he  should  be  painted  in 
the  act  of  preaching,"  said  the  gentle  voice  of 
"  Our  Lady  of  Peace."  "  It  was  a  pity,  for  he 
was  really  a  handsome  man,  and  possessed  great 
dignity  of  manner." 

Echoing  "the  pity  of  it!"  we  turn  to  the 
placid  visage  framed  by  the  mob-cap,  and  seek 
in  the  gentle,  serious  eyes  of  Temperance 
Smith  traces  of  the  fire  that  enabled  her  to 
overbear  erudite  Dr.  Bellamy's  remonstrances 
when  he  even  intimated  that  she  was  arrogant 
in  believing  "  that  the  Lord  had  condescended 
to  grant  visions  "  to  her. 

"  But  I  soon  silenced  him,"  she  writes. 
"  First,  by  repeating  my  dream,  and,  second, 
by  showing  him  pretty  plainly  that  I  was  not 
beholden  to  him  for  his  opinions  or  permission, 
but  was  going  to  set  out  directly  we  had  break 
fasted." 

The  clear-cut  face  of  their  son,  Governor 
John  Cotton  Smith,  is  between  the  portraits 
of  the  grand  old  couple. 

Near  by  is  a  mahogany  lounge,   broad   and 


CORNER  OF  LIBRARY  IN  SMITH   HOMESTEAD. 


The  Smith  House  343 

comfortable,  brought  from  France  in  1796,  as 
a  bedstead  for  a  student  in  Columbia  College, 
David  Codwise,  a  collateral  kinsman.  In  a 
spirit  that  proved  the  relationship,  he  con 
demned  the  couch  as  "  altogether  too  luxuri 
ous,"  and  slept  during  the  period  of  his  tutelage 
on  a  plank  laid  upon  two  chairs. 

All  the  "plenishing"  of  the  house  is  from 
ninety  to  two  hundred  years  old,  the  more 
modern  having  been  brought  from  her  girl 
hood's  home  by  Mrs.  Smith  over  eighty  years 
ago.  The  drawing-room  carpet  was  sent  from 
Brussels  in  1807,  to  Margaret  Evertson,  wife 
of  Governor  Smith.  It  is  whole  throughout, 
and  the  colors  are  clear  and  harmonious.  So 
extraordinary  is  this  immunity  from  darn  and 
dimness  that  the  story  of  the  actual  age  of  the 
venerable  fabric  seems  incredible  to  those  ac 
customed  to  the  "  often  infirmities  "  of  modern 
rloor-coverin^s. 

o 

The  bookcase  in  this  room  was  "  brought 
over"  by  a  Holland  Evertson,  in  1640.  The 
valuable  Venetian  mirror  belongs  to  a  still  ear 
lier  date. 

A  superb  silver  tray,  bearing  the  changed 
crest  of  Robert  Livingston,  with  the  motto 
"  Spero  meliora"  adopted  in  commemoration 


344       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

of  his  escape  from  shipwreck,  is  one  of  the 
Smith  heirlooms,  an  inheritance  through  beau 
tiful  Helen  Livingston. 

The  kitchen  chimney  had,  within  thirty 
years,  a  throat  ten  feet  wide  by  five  high. 
Standing  within  it,  Mrs.  Smith's  children  used 
to  peep  up  at  the  stars  at  night.  The  whole 
chimney  is  twelve  feet  square. 

In  Miss  H.  E.  Smith's  charming  tale,  For 
Her  King  s  Sake,  we  read  how  a  Royalist  girl, 
the  ward  of  Madam  Smith,  hid  two  Hessian 
prisoners  in  the  "  smoke-room,"  made  by  a 
cayity  of  this  chimney  in  the  second  story. 

The  rear  wall,  where  the  kitchen  wing  joins 
the  newer  building,  is  fifty  inches  thick.  The 
kitchen  is  a  spacious,  delightful  chamber, 
thirty-two  feet  long  by  twenty-eight  wide. 

Passing  the  door  of  a  quaintly  beautiful  bed 
room,  where  a  sampler  map  of  the  State  of 
New  York,  wrought  in  faded  silks,  hangs  over 
the  mantel,  and  a  mourning-piece  of  "  a  lady 
and  urn  "  upon  another  wall ;  where  the  four- 
poster  with  carved  uprights  and  head-board  is 
hung  with  white  dimity,  as  are  the  deep  win 
dows  looking  down  through  magnificent  elms 
upon  the  extensive  lawn  and  gardens, — we 
climb  the  stairs  to  the  great  garret.  A  large 


The  Smith  House  345 

round  window,  like  an  eye,  is  set  in  the  gable  ; 
the  roof  slopes  above  a  vast  space,  where  the 
townspeople  used  to  congregate  for  dance,  and 
speech-making,  and  church  "  entertainments," 
before  a  public  hall  was  built.  Treasures  of 
antique  furniture  are  here  that  leave  to  the 
wise  in  such  matters  no  hope  of  keeping,  for 
the  fraction  of  a  minute  longer,  that  clause  of 
the  tenth  commandment  covering  "  anything 
that  is  thy  neighbor's  "  ;  and  in  the  middle  of 
the  dusky  spaciousness,  a  long,  long  table, 
over  which  is  cast  a  white  cloth. 

"  Family  papers  !  all  of  them.  Some  day  I 
shall  begin — in  some  years  I  may  complete— 
the  examination  of  them,"  says  Miss  Smith, 
lifting  a  corner  of  what  is  to  me,  now  that  I 
know  what  is  beneath,  the  sheet  covering  the 
face  of  the  dead. 

Hampers,  corded  boxes,  and  trunks  full  of 
them  !  The  hopes,  the  dreads,  the  loves,  the 
lives  of  nine  generations  of  one  blood  and 
name. 


XV 


THE  PIERCE  HOUSE,  IN  DORCHESTER, 
MASSACHUSETTS 

N  1630,  the  good  ship  Mary  and  John,  char 
tered  by  the   English   company   that   had 
in   charge    the    Massa- 

o 

chusetts  Bay  Colony, 
brought  to  Boston  a 
young  man  by  the  name 
of  Robert  Pierce. 

Professor].  M.  Peirce 
of  Harvard,  says:  "A 
high  degree  of  uniform 
ity  exists  in  the  spelling, 
as  used  by  persons  bear 
ing  the  name  in  any  one 
family  connection." 

branch        WhiCh 


PIERCE  CREST. 


sprang  from   Robert  Pierce   has   consistently, 
for  nine  generations,  given  the  preference  to 


The  Pierce  House  347 

the  method  of  spelling  the  name  which  will  be 
used  in  this  paper,  but  as  the  very  able  "  Peirce 
Genealogy "  compiled  by  Frederick  Clifton 
Peirce,  of  Rockford,  Illinois,  proves,  the  parent 
stock  was  the  same.1 

"  The  first  patent  granted  by  the  Council 
of  Plymouth  of  land  in  New  England  was  to 
John  Pierce,  of  London,  and  his  associates, 
dated  June  i,  1621.  This  was  a  roaming 
patent,  granting  100  acres  for  each  settler 
already  transplanted  and  such  as  should  be 
transported." 

Under  this  "roaming  patent"  Robert  "set 
tled  on  what  was  called  Pine  Neck"-— so  runs 
the  MS.  genealogical  record  kept  in  the  home 
stead — "  near  the  water."  The  cellar  of  his 
house  was  to  be  seen  there  until  1804.  In 
1640  he  built  (in  Dorchester,  Mass.)  another 
dwelling.  u  At  that  time  Robert  Pierce's 
house  and  the  Minot  house,  on  the  adjoining 

1  Colonel  Peirce  is  also  the  compiler  of  a  curious  and  valuable  vol 
ume,  giving  the  history  of  another  wing  of  the  family,  under  the 
interesting  caption  of  "  Pearce  Genealogy,  being  the  Record  of  the  Pos 
terity  of  Richard  Pearce,  an  early  inhabitant  of  Portsmouth,  in  Rhode 
Island,  who  came  from  England,  and  whose  Genealogy  is  traced  back 
to  972  ;  with  an  Introduction  of  the  Male  Descendants  of  Josceline 
De  Louvaine,  the  Second  House  of  Percy,  Earls  of  Northumberland, 
Barons  Percy  and  Territorial  Lords  of  Alnwick,  Warkworth  and 
Prudhoe  Castles  in  the  County  of  Northumberland,  England." 


348       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

farm,  were  the  only  houses  in  this  part  of  the 
country.  .  The  road  from  Boston  to  Plymouth 
was  up  Oak  Avenue  "  (directly  past  Robert's 
door)  "  and  near  the  old  well,  crossing  Nepon- 
set  River  at  a  fording-place  near  the  Granite 
Bridge. 

"  Robert  married  Ann  Greenway,  daughter 
of  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Dorchester,  gen 
erally  known  as  '  Goodman  Greenway.' ' 

John  Greenway,  or,  according  to  the  bound 
less  license  in  the  matter  of  orthography  prev 
alent  at  that  date,  Greanway,  or  Greenaway, 
was  a  fellow-passenger  of  Robert  Pierce,  and, 
it  is  supposed,  was  accompanied  by  his  whole 
family.  Robert  Pierce  married  his  daughter 
just  before,  or  just  after  the  voyage  to  America. 

"Ann  was  born  in  England  in  1591,  and 
lived  to  the  uncommon  age  of  104  years.  She 
died  December  31,  1695." 

Robert's  death  is  thus  set  down  : 

"  Robert  Pierce  of  ye  greate  lotts,  died 
January  1 1,  1664. 

"  The  descendants  of  Robert  of  Dorchester 
have  been  men  of  substance,  being  industrious 
and  frugal,  and  have  held  a  respectable  rank 
in  society,  having  intermarried  with  many  of 
the  best  families  in  Dorchester  and  vicinity." 


o 

+ 

§  ; 


Q      l- 
<      d 

"    J 

en 

ui 

S 
o 

I 

s 

or 


The  Pierce  House  351 

Thus  a  part  of  the  quaint  introduction  to 
the  family  history  made  out  by  a  descendant 
of  the  young  Englishman  who  was  freeman  of 
the  town  of  Dorchester  in  May,  1642.  Pains 
taking  research  on  both  sides  of  the  sea  on 
the  part  of  members  of  the  family,  and  com 
parison  of  old  records  and  heraldic  devices 
have  brought  to  light  some  curious  and  interest 
ing  facts  antedating  Robert  Pierce's  voyage  to 
the  New  World.  These  show  the  name  to  have 
been  originally  Percy,  or  Percie,  and  Robert  of 
Dorchester  to  have  been  collaterally  related 
to  the  Percys  of  Northumberland.  Master 
George  Percie,  who  won  distinction  for  him 
self  and  stability  for  John  Smith's  Virginian 
Colony,  was  a  blood-relation.  His  name  ap 
pears  again  and  again  in  the  genealogical 
table,  even  down  to  the  tenth  generation  of 
Robert's  descendants.  The  tradition  connect 
ing  the  ancestry  of  the  Dorchester  freeholder 
with  that  of  Harry  Hotspur  also  avers  that 
the  line  can  be  traced  back  to  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon. 

It  is  certain  that  among  the  effects  brought 
from  the  old  country  in  the  Mary  and  John 
was  the  coat-of-arms,  the  crest  of  which  is  given 
on  another  page.  A  faded  copy  of  great  age 


352       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

still  hangs  in  the  old  homestead  in  Oak  Ave 
nue,  Dorchester. 

The  American  offshoots  of  the  ancient  stock 
were  people  of  marked  individuality  from  the 
date  of  their  landing.  To  the  frugality  and 
industry  claimed  for  them  by  the  writer  of  the 
MS.  referred  to,  they  added  stern  integrity, 
strong  wills,  bravery,  and,  like  sparks  struck 
from  iron,  fire  of  disposition  and  speech  that 
kept  alive  in  the  memory  of  contemporaries 
the  tale  of  the  Hotspur  blood.  They  had 
many  children  as  a  rule,  brought  them  up 
with  equal  vigor  and  rigor,  and  lived  long  in 
the  land  they  believed  the  Lord  their  God  had 
given  them. 

Here  and  there  in  the  dry  and  dusty  details 
of  births,  marriages,  and  deaths  we  run  across 
an  incident  not  without  meaning  to  us. 

"  Samuel,  born  1676,  died  December  16, 
1698,  aetat  22,  by  the  fall  of  a  tree  on  Thomp 
son's  Island." 

"  John  Pierce  "  (in  the  third  generation  from 
Robert)  "  married  Abigail  Thompson,  of  Brain- 
tree,  January  6,  1693.  She  was  born  Novem 
ber  10,  1667,  the  daughter  of  Deacon  Samuel, 
and  granddaughter  of  Rev.  William  Thomp 
son,  of  Braintree.  He  joined  the  Dorchester 


The  Pierce  House  353 

Church  "  (on  Meeting- House  Hill)  "  March 
7,  1692,  and  died  in  consequence  of  a  fall, 
January  27,  1744,  aetat  76. 

44  He  was  a  famous  sportsman,  and  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  killing  wild  fowl.  It  is 
said  he  kept  an  account  of  30,000  brants  he 
had  killed." 

A  story  of  this  pious  Nimrod,  handed  down 
through  all  the  generations,  forcibly  illustrates 
the  Sabbatarian  customs  of  his  times  and 
locality  and  the  stubborn  literalism  which  dis 
tinguished  the  Pierces  above  their  neighbors 
in  whatever  pertained  to  moral  and  religious 
observances.  Few  men  shaved  oftener  than 
once  a  week  in  that  primitive  region.  The 
Sabbath  began  with  the  going  down  of  the 
sun  on  Saturday.  It  was  John  Pierce's  habit 
to  shave  in  front  of  a  mirror  set  near  a  west 
ern  window,  and  to  begin  the  operation  half 
an  hour  before  sunset.  On  one  particular 
Saturday  afternoon  the  methodical  Puritan 
set  about  the  hebdomadal  task  later  than 
usual.  Perhaps  the  "  brants  "  had  lured  him 
far  afield,  or  afen,  or  the  work  of  paying  of! 
the  laborers  in  '4  ye  greate  lotts  "  had  hindered 
him.  As  the  upper  rim  of  the  sun  sank  below 
the  horizon  line  he  had  shaved  just  half  of  his 


354       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

face.  Without  a  word  he  wiped  his  razor, 
returned  it  to  the  case,  and  laid  it  aside  with 
brush  and  strap.  The  next  day  Abigail  Pierce 
and  her  children  sat  meekly  in  the  family  pew 
in  the  old  meeting-house  with  the  imperturba 
ble  master  of  the  flock,  one  side  of  whose  face 
bristled  with  a  week's  stubble,  while  the  other 
was  cleanly  shorn,  as  befitted  the  day  and 
place. 

He  left  seven  children  when  he  was  gathered 
to  his  fathers  in  i  744  ;  and  eight  had  died  in 
infancy.  Two  of  the  seven  married  twice. 
His  grandson,  Samuel,  born  March  25,  1/39, 
was  over  thirty  years  of  age,  and  married,  at 
the  outbreak  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  On 
one  and  the  same  day  he  received  a  commission 
as  Captain  from  the  Crown,  and  of  a  Colonelcy 
from  the  Continental  Congress.  He  accepted 
the  latter,  and  served  with  distinction  through 
out  the  war.  His  wife  remained  at  home, 
overseeing  the  farm  and  four  little  children 
during  his  absence.  His  letters  to  her  from 
Morristown,  N.  ].,  and  other  places  of  encamp 
ment  are  penned  in  a  neat,  compact  hand  that 
gives  no  token  of  the  salient  characteristics  of 
the  writer.  The  same  chirography  appears  in 
the  family  record  of  an  old  Bible  in  the  posses- 


The  Pierce  House  355 

sion  of  a  descendant.  From  this  we  learn  that 
his  father  Samuel,  with  dogged  "  perseverance  " 
which  may,  or  may  not  have  been  "  of  the 
saints,"  named  three  sons  after  himself. 

"Samuel  Pierce,  their  first,  born  January 
30,  1734,  died  April  5,  1736. 

"Second  Samuel  Pierce,  born  September  5, 
1737,  died  February  25,  1738. 

"  Third  Samuel  Pierce  "  (the  scribe  himself), 
"born  March  25,  1739." 

The  hand  of  his  grandson-namesake,  Samuel 
Pierce  Hawes,  of  Richmond,  Virginia,  added 
to  this  last  entry,  "  Died  June  4,  1815." 

At  the  end  of  the  Old  Testament  we  find  in 
the  minute,  distinct  lettering  which  would  seem 
to  have  been  habitual  with  him  : — "  Samuel 
Pierce  began  the  Bible  March  the  6///,  1775. 

"  Samuel  Pierce.  I  Red  out  the  Bible  from 
the  First  of  Feb.,  i  772,  to  the  fourth  of  Marc Ji, 
1  775'  which  was  three  years  and  one  month  and 
four  days." 

To  "  read  out "  was  to  read  aloud,  and,  in 
this  instance,  was  done  at  morning  and  evening 
worship.  We  may  be  sure,  too,  from  what  we 
know  of  him  and  the  custom  of  the  day,  that 
he  omitted  not  one  "  begat,"  or  "  slept  with  his 
fathers "  of  First  or  Second  Chronicles,  and 


356       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

did  not  slur  over  a  pomegranate,  bell  or  knop 
of  Exodus.  He  kept  a  sharp  eye  upon  the 
sacred  penmen,  meanwhile,  as  is  evinced  by  a 
marginal  entry  against  2  Kings,  xix. 

"  The  37  Chaptr  of  Isaiah  is  much  like  this. 
S.P.,  1772." 

And  having  "  Red  out "  the  inspired  volume 
on  March  4th,  he  dutifully  began  it  again  on 
March  5th. 

Of  all  the  patriarchs  of  the  ten  generations 
whose  biographies  are  outlined  in  the  yellow 
ing  pages  before  me,  this  Samuel  Pierce  stands 
out  most  prominently. 

He  addressed  his  gentle  wife  in  the  epistles 
preserved  as  mementoes  of  his  campaigns,  as 
•"  Honored  Madam,"  yet  I  have  talked  with 
those  who  recollected  the  imperious  sway  with 
which  he  ordered  his  growing  household. 

After  the  manner  of  his  forefathers,  he 
farmed  his  patrimonial  acres,  now  grown  valua 
ble  by  reason  of  proximity  to  Boston.  His 
habits  were  simple  and  methodical,  his  rules  of 
life  and  conduct  few  and  inflexible  ;  in  domes 
tic  discipline  he  was  the  strictest  of  drill-ser 
geants.  At  twelve  o'clock  every  day  he  came 
home  to  dinner,  and,  in  passing  the  corner  of 
the  kitchen  he  would  cough  loudly  and  mean- 


The  Pierce  House  357 

ingly.  From  that  moment  until  his  august 
shadow  fell  on  the  same  spot  in  the  path  to 
the  fields  after  the  noonday  repast,  not  one  of 
the  half-dozen  children  who  sat  down  tri-daily 
to  the  table  with  their  parents  dared  to  utter  a 
word. 

Yet  he  loved  his  offspring  in  his  way  and 
was  fond  of  them  ;  neither  niggardly  nor  churl 
ish  in  his  provision  for  them.  Two  of  his 
daughters  outlived  infancy,  and  grew  into  tall, 
handsome  women.  Elizabeth  was  twenty-two, 
Ann  but  sixteen,  when  they  went  together  to 
a  commencement  at  Harvard,  and,  as  the 
younger  sister  confessed  to  a  granddaughter 
sixty  years  later,  "  received  as  much  attention 
as  any  other  young  women  present.  \Ye  were 
Squire  Pierce's  daughters,  you  see,"  she  modi 
fied  the  statement  by  saying.  "  Our  father 
was  much  thought  of  in  the  neighborhood." 

Then,  opening  a  drawer,  she  showed  the 
visitor  the  "petticoat"  of  the  gown  she  wore 
that  day.  The  sisters  were  dressed  alike  in 
slips  of  blue  silk,  trimmed  with  pearl-colored 
satin,  and  hats  to  match. 

Ann  made  a  runaway  match  at  seventeen, 
and  we  find  her  a  few  years  later  a  widow  with 
an  only  child,  keeping  house  for  her  father. 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


The  stern  fibre  of  her  nature  was  an  inherit 
ance  from  the  grim  despot  whose  coming-  had 
quelled  her  childish  mirth.  She  brought  up 
her  fatherless  boy  after  the  strait,  strict 
methods  which  had  not  crushed  her  haughty 
spirit.  They  were  a  high-handed,  high-tem 
pered  race  who  were  born,  lived,  and  died  in 
the  old  house  which  rambled  beyond  the  orig 
inal  foundations  as  means  and  families  in 
creased.  The  right  end  of  the  building,  as  it 
now  stands,  was  erected  by  Colonel  Samuel  at 
the  time  of  his  marriage  with  Elizabeth  How. 
Up  to  that  date  there  stood  in  the  dining- 
room  an  oaken  table,  so  huge  that  the  bride 
groom-expectant  resolved  to  get  it  out  of  his 
way.  It  could  not  be  carried  up  the  narrow 
stairs,  so  when  the  gable  was  opened  to  pre 
pare  for  the  projected  addition,  he  had  the 
cumbrous  article  swung  up  into  the  attic  and 
built  it  in.  It  stood  in  the  end  garret  for  over 
a  hundred  years,  and  was  finally  removed  by 
sawing  it  apart  and  taking  it  away  piece-meal. 
In  the  same  garret  was  a  trap-door  leading 
into  a  secret  chamber,  built  for  protection 
against  the  Indians,  a  hiding-place  of  such  in 
genious  contrivance  that,  now  that  the  flooring 
has  been  laid  solidly  above  it,  one  examines 


The  Pierce  House  361 

the  lower  story  in  vain  for  trace  of  the  room, 
which  is  at  least  six  feet  square. 

The  frame  of  the  house  is  of  Massachusetts 
black  oak,  grown  in  "ye  greate  lotts."  The 
beams,  twelve  by  fourteen  inches  thick,  are 
pinned  together  like  the  ribs  of  a  ship,  and 
cross  heavily  the  low-browed  wainscoted 
rooms.  In  the  spacious  parlor  built  by  Colo 
nel  Samuel,  there  are  nine  doors. 

Forty  years  ago,  the  big  fireplace  in  the 
family  sitting-room  was  altered  to  suit  modern 
needs,  and  the  beam  running  across  the  throat 
of  the  chimney  taken  out.  It  was  as  black  as 
ebony  and  as  hard  as  lignum  vitae.  Cups,  and 
other  small  articles  were  turned  out  of  the 
wood  as  souvenirs,  and  distributed  in  the  fam 
ily.  The  removal  of  the  ancient  timber  re 
vealed  a  cavity  in  the  masonry  above,  left  by 
taking  out  one  brick.  Within  it,  set  carefully 
side  by  side,  was  a  pair  of  dainty  satin  slippers, 
the  knots  of  ribbon  on  the  insteps  as  perfect 
as  when  they  were  hidden  away  there — per 
haps  two  hundred  years  before. 

Did  Ann  Greenway  bring  them  from  Eng 
land,  and  devise  the  queer  receptacle  to  secure 
the  cherished  bit  of  finery  from  Indian  "sneak 
thieves  "  ?  Or  did  Mary  inherit  them  and  con- 


362       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ceal  them  from  envious  neighbors  ?  Did  one 
of  the  Abigails,  or  Sarahs,  or  Hannahs,  or 
Marys,  or  Elizabeths,  whose  names  are  re 
peated  in  successive  generations,  tuck  the 
pretty  foreign  things  into  a  hole  in  the  wall 
for  safe  keeping  on  the  eve  of  a  journey  or 
visit,  and  return  to  find  that,  while  she  was 
away,  they  had  been  unwittingly  walled  in  and 
up,  as  irretrievably  as  Marmion's  "  injured 
Constance  "  in  the  monastery  vault  ? 

A  funny,  and  a  characteristic,  little  story  has 
to  do  with  the  crack  visible  in  the  lower  panel 
of  the  closet  door  at  the  left  of  the  fireplace, 
in  the  middle  parlor  of  the  Pierce  homestead. 
This  was  known  two  hundred  years  agone  as 
"the  gun-closet."  In  it,  powder-horns  and 
shot-pouches  were  slung  upon  hooks,  and  guns 
stood  ready  loaded  for  an  Indian  surprise- 
party,  or  the  appearance  of  deer  and  wild  fowl. 
Abigail  Pierce,  spouse  of  the  mighty  hunter 
John,  one  day  locked  the  door  and  carried  the 
key  off  in  her  pocket  when  she  went  on  a  visit 
to  a  neighbor,  lest  the  children  might  get  at 
the  fire-arms  in  her  absence.  During  the 
afternoon  a  great  flock  of  wild  geese  flew  low 
and  straight  toward  the  house,  and  the  good 
man  rushed  in-doors  for  his  fowling-piece. 


The  Pierce  House  365 

Finding  the  closet  locked,  he  promptly  kicked 
out  a  panel,  seized  the  gun  and  had  his  shot. 
The  broken  panel  was  duly  replaced,  but  the 
scar  left  by  the  master's  heroic  treatment  re 
mains  unto  this  day. 

"  Action  first,  speech  afterwards,"  was  the 
watchword  of  those  earlier  generations. 

Robert  of  Dorchester  preserved,  as  long  as 
he  lived,  a  ship-biscuit  brought  from  England 
by  him  in  1630.  It  is  still  treasured  in  the  old 
house  and  is  undoubtedly  the  "  ripest  "  bread 
in  America.  Beside  it,  in  the  glass  case  made 
to  keep  it  in,  lies  a  corn-cob,  used,  for  a  gener 
ation,  in  shelling  corn  by  the  first  Samuel  Pierce, 
who  married  Abigail  Moseley  in  i  702.  Other 
relics  are  sacredly  kept  under  the  roof-tree 
which,  for  more  than  two  and  a  half  centuries, 
has  sheltered  owners  of  the  same  blood  and 
name.  Among  them  are  a  stand  and  chest  of 
drawers  brought  over  in  the  Mary  and  John  ;  a 
Malacca  cane,  silver-banded,  with  an  ivory  head; 
a  tall  clock,  a  desk,  and  a  mirror  with  bevelled 
edges  which  may  have  formed  part  of  the  plen 
ishing  of  Ann  Greenway.  We  cannot  help 
building  a  little  romance  in  connection  with  the 
long  voyage  taken  by  Goodman  Greenway  and 
his  family,  in  company  with  young  Robert. 


366       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  For  diverse  good  causes  and  considerations 
me  thereunto  moving,  and  specially  for  the 
great  love  and  fatherly  affection  that  I  bear 
unto  my  sonne-in-law  Robert  Pearse  and  Ann 
Pearse,  my  daughter—  '  is  the  preamble  of  the 
will  which  bequeaths  to  them  a  goodly  estate. 

The  will-literature  of  the  race  is  unusually 
full  and  rich  in  suggestions  of  local  history  and 
character.  I  have  before  me  the  entire  last 
wills  and  testaments  of  five  of  the  Pierce  name 
and  lineage,  all  devising  property  in  the  direct 
line.  The  longest  and  most  verbose  of  these 
are  those  of  John  (1743)  and  Colonel  Samuel 
(1807).  There  are  touches  of  piety  and  hu 
man  tenderness  in  Robert's  (date  of  1664) 
which  move  us  to  interest  and  sympathy  with 
the  old  exile.  Between  the  stipulation  that  a 
bequest  of  <k  thirty  pounds  shall  bee  payd 
within  three  years  after  my  wife's  decease  in 
good  current  pay  of  New  England,"  and  the 
appointment  of  his  executors,  occurs  this  pas 
sage  : — "  And  now,  my  Dear  Child,  a  ffather's 
Blessing  I  Bequeath  unto  you  both  &  yours. 
Bee  tender  &  Loving  to  your  Mother,  Loving 
and  Kind  one  unto  another.  Stand  up  in  your 
places  for  God  and  for  His  Ordinances  while 
you  live,  then  hee  will  bee  for  you  &  Bless  you." 


THE  RIPEST  BREAD  IN  AMERICA.' 


The  Pierce  House  369 

In  my  library  stands  an  antique  chair  of 
solid  cherry,  one  of  six  imported  by  Colonel 
Samuel  Pierce  from  England  at  the  time  of 
his  marriage  in  1765.  Others  of  the  set  were 
distributed  among  other  and  appreciative  de 
scendants,  long  before  the  taste  for  old  family 
furniture  waxed  into  a  craze  which  encourages 
forgeries  in  cabinet-making. 

In  front  of  the  modest  homestead  is  the  well, 
dug  in  1640,  still  yielding  clear,  cold,  delicious 
water,  believed  by  all  of  the  blood  to  be  the 
best  in  the  world.  In  1850  the  last  branch 
—full  of  leaves  and  acorns — fell  on  a  windless 
day  from  the  old  oak  that  had  shaded  the  well 
for  two  centuries. 

General  E.  W.  Pierce  quotes  from  Babson 
the  description  of  a  political  meeting  held  in 
Gloucester,  Mass.,  in  1806,  when  "  the  two 
parties  struggled  for  the  mastery  through  the 
day  and  amid  darkness  until  half  past  ten  at 
night.  .  .  .  The  Democrats  not  unreason 
ably  expected  success,  as  they  had  the  influence 
of  the  Pierce  family." 

His  Chronicle  adds: — "Indomitable  perse 
verance  is  a  trait  that  marks  their  character  in 
every  department  of  life  and  has  generally 
crowned  their  efforts  with  ultimate  success." 


3/o       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

President  Franklin  Pierce  was  of  the  same 
stock;  also  Hon.  Benjamin  Pierce,  Librarian 
of  Harvard  University  from  1826  to  1831  ; 
Hon.  Oliver  Pierce  of  Maine,  obit,  in  1849,  at 
84  ;  Henry  Pierce  of  Brookline,  Mass.  ;  Hon. 
Andrew  Pierce  of  Dover,  N.  H.,  obit.  March 
5,  1875,  at  90;  Rev.  John  Pierce,  D.  D.,  of 
Brookline,  Mass.,  obit.  1849,  at  7^5  Colonel 
Thomas  Wentworth  Pierce,  President  of  the 
Galveston,  Harrisburg,  and  San  Antonio  Rail 
way  ; — but  a  list  of  those  of  the  name  and 
blood  who  have  borne  well  their  part  in  church, 
commonwealth,  and  nation  would  weary  writer 
and  reader. 

The  Pierces  are  a  rugged,  indomitable  race, 
physically,  as  is  proved  by  a  cursory  examina 
tion  of  the  tables  of  births  and  deaths.  Within 
a  quarter-century,  twc  Golden  Weddings  have 
been  celebrated  upon  what  remains  of  "ye 
greate  lotts."  The  first  was  that  of  Mr,  Lewis 
Pierce,  who  married  Sarah  Moseley  in  1808. 
Mr.  Pierce  died  July  4,  1871,  at  85.  The  sec 
ond,  that  of  Mr.  Lewis  Francis  Pierce,  married 
to  Melissa  Withington,  November  30,  1834, 
was  commemorated  November  30,  1884. 

By  the  clever  management  of  those  who  lent 
loving  hands  to  the  task  of  preparing  for  the 


THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  EVENING.' 


The  Pierce  House  373 

second  of  these  anniversaries,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Pierce  were  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  coming 
festivities  until  the  guests  began  to  arrive.  The 
clan  rallied  from  near  and  from  far,  bearing 
love-gifts  and  eager  with  loving  congratula 
tions  and  wishes.  The  night  was  clear  and 
cold  ;  the  hoar-frost  crisped  the  turf  as  we  trod 
upon  it  to  muffle  our  approach.  In  the  very 
heart  of  the  pulsing  brightness  and  warmth  of 
the  interior  sat  the  queen  of  the  evening  in 
the  beauty  of  serene  old  age.  The  pleasur 
able  excitement  of  the  "  surprise  "  flushed  her 
cheeks  and  brightened  her  eyes,  until  we  had  a 
chastened  vision  of  the  bride  who  had  been 
lifted  over  the  worn  threshold  fifty  years  be 
fore,  to  dwell  in  the  home  of  her  husband's 
forefathers  all  the  days  of  her  blameless  life. 

I  doubt  if,  in  any  other  of  our  Colonial 
Homesteads,  two  Golden  Weddings  have  been 
celebrated  in  consecutive  generations  of  one 
family,  and  that  of  a  race  which  has  inhabited 
the  house  without  a  break  in  the  line  ever  since 
it  was  built,  two  hundred  and  fifty-odd  years 
ago. 

Mr.  L.  F.  Pierce  died  in  1888  at  the  age  of 
eighty.  The  Boston  Advertiser  paid  him  this 
just  tribute  : 


374       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

'  Those  traits  of  character  which  gained  for  Mr.  Pierce 
the  confidence  and  esteem  of  his  townsmen  in  his  public 
capacity,  made  him  as  friend  and  companion  beloved  by 
all  who  knew  him  intimately.  His  cheerful  greeting  and 
gracious  reception  in  themselves  repaid  the  visitor.  In 
conversation  he  was  never  at  loss  for  a  humorous  turn  or 
fitting  anecdote.  Though  making  no  pretensions  in  a 
literary  way,  he  was  a  reliable  antiquarian,  and  his  re 
tentive  memory  was  stored  with  facts  of  interest  and 
value  pertaining  to  the  history  of  the  town,  which  he 
took  pleasure  in  relating. 

"  During  the  war  he  visited  with  others  in  an  official 
capacity  the  several  companies  at  the  front,  and  was 
.cordially  received. 

"  This  service,  though  of  the  civil  routine,  may  fitly  be 
mentioned  as  in  a  degree  identifying  him  with  the  patri 
otic  cause  in  this  war,  as  his  father,  Lewis  Pierce,  had 
•been  in  the  war  of  1812,  and  his  grandfather,  Col. 
:Samuel  Pierce,  in  that  of  the  Revolution,  both  in  the 
military  service." 

His  son,  Mr.  George  Francis  Pierce,  resides 
in  the  house  built  by  his  father  within  the 
grounds  of  the  old  homestead,  which  is  now 
occupied  by  Mr.  William  Augustus  Pierce. 


XVI 

THE   "PARSON   WILLIAMS"    HOUSE   IN    DEER- 
FIELD,    MASSACHUSETTS 

ROBERT,  ROXBURY,  came  from  Nor 
wich,  in  England,  was  admitted  freeman 
in  1638,  and  is  the  common  ancestor  of  the  di 
vines,  civilians,  and  warriors  of  this  name  who 
have  honored  the  country  of  their  birth." 

Thus  ambles  a  clause  of  the  introduction  to 
the  genealogical  record  of  the  "  Family  of 
Williams  in  America,  more  particularly  of  the 
Descendants  of  Robert  Williams  of  Roxbury," 
prepared  by  Stephen  W.  Williams,  M.D.,  A.M., 
"  Corresponding  Memb.  of  the  New  England 
Historic.  Genealog.  Society  of  the  National 
Institute  .  .  .  Hon.  Memb.  of  the  N.  Y.  Hist. 
Soc.,  Memb.  elect  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
Northern  Antiquaries,  Copenhagen,  Denmark, 
etc.,  etc." 

We  read,  furthermore,  that  the  Williamses 

375 


376       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


"  form  a  large  part  of  the  principality  of  Wales, 
somewhat  like  the  O's  of  Ireland  and  the  Mac's 
of  Scotland.  .  .  .  Some  of  the  name  in 
Wales  trace  their  lineage  as  far  back  as  Adam  " 
—is  a  bit  of  pleasantry  left,  like  a  sprig  of 
lavender,  between  the  musty  leaves.  An  ex 
tract  from  the  pedigree  of  Williams  of  Penrhyn 
is  set  down  in  grave  sincerity. 

"  This  most  ancient  family  of  the  principal 
ity  of  Wales  deduces  its  pedigree  with  singular 
perspicuity  from  Brutus,  son  of  Sylvius  Pos- 
thumius,  son  of  Ascaneus,  son  of  ^neas,  which 
Brutus  was  the  first  king  of  this  Island,  and 
began  to  reign  above  noo  years  before  the 
birth  of  Christ." 

The  Encyclopaedia  Ameri 
cana  says,  "  the  genealogy  of 
Oliver  Cromwell  is  traced 
to  Richard  Williams,  who 
assumed  the  name  of  Crom 
well  from  his  maternal  uncle, 
Thomas  Cromwell,  Secre 
tary  of  State  to  Henry  VIII 
and,  through  William  of 
Yevan,  up  to  the  barons  of 
the  eleventh  century." 
In  confirmation  of  the  statement  we  are 


WILLIAMS  CREST. 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     377 

informed  that  "  in  almost  all  their  deeds  and 
wills,  the  progeny  of  William  of  Yevan  signed 
themselves  '  Cromwell,  alias  Williams/  down 
to  the  reign  of  James  the  First."  A  list  of  the 
descendants  of  Robert  of  Roxbury  who  have 
been  graduated  from  American  colleges,  dis 
tinguished  themselves  in  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States,  in  the  learned  professions,  in 
literature  and  art,  and  in  the  mercantile  world, 
would  be  a  sort  of  directory  of  intellectual 
progress,  financial  prosperity,  and  political  in 
tegrity  in  the  communities  favored  by  their 
residence.  This  is  not  haphazard  eulogy,  but 
fact.  William  Williams  of  Connecticut  signed 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  in  1776  al 
though  convinced  in  his  own  mind  that  the 
cause  of  the  Colonists  would  not  be  successful. 

'  I  have  done  much  to  prosecute  the  contest,'  he 
said  with  great  calmness.  *  And  one  thing  I  have  done 
which  the  British  will  never  pardon, — I  have  signed  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  I  shall  be  hung'  And,  to 
a  brother  legislator  who  congratulated  himself  that  he  had 
committed  no  overt  act  against  the  Crown — Mr.  Williams 
replied,  his  eyes  kindling  as  he  spoke, — '  Then  sir,  you 
deserve  to  be  hanged  for  not  having  done  your  duty.'  " 

Colonel  Ephraim  Williams,  scholar,  traveller, 
and  soldier,  fell  fighting  bravely  in  an  ambus- 


o/ 


78       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


cade  of  French  and  Indians,  September  8, 
1755,  "leaving  in  his  will  a  liberal  provision 
for  a  free  school  at  Williamstown.  On  this 
foundation  arose  the  College  which  was  called 
after  his  name." 

The  pages  of  the  shabby  volume  before  me 
are  starred  by  noble  names  and  worthy  deeds, 
and  still  the  story  goes  on. 

Among  the  multitude  of  heroes  who  quitted 
themselves  like  men  in  the  battle  of  life,  and 
the  martyrs  of  whom  this  present  world  is  not 
worthy,  none  made  a  braver  fight  or  suffered 
more  than  John  Williams,  a  descendant  in  the 
third  generation  from  Robert  of  Roxbury,  the 
founder  of  the  cis-atlantic  branch  of  the  re 
markable  family. 

At  the  early  age  of  nineteen  he  was  gradu 
ated  from  Harvard  College,  and  three  years 
afterward,  in  the  spring  of  1686,  was  installed 
as  "the  first  minister  of  Deerfield,  Massachu 
setts."  This  was  an  English  settlement  situ 
ated  about  thirty  miles  north  of  Agawam  (now 
Springfield)  just  where  the  Deerfield  River 
joins  the  Connecticut.  Two  thousand  acres 
of  land  formerly  (?)  owned  by  the  Pocomptuck 
Indians  was  deeded  by  the  General  Court  of 
Massachusetts  to  a  party  of  English  emigrants 


The  "  Parson  Williams  "  House     379 

in  1651.  The  village  of  Pocomptuck  had  no 
existence  until  twenty  years  later.  Metacomet, 
the  warlike  son  of  Massassoit,  better  known 
to  us  as  King  Philip,  succeeded  his  peaceful 
parent  in  1662,  and  in  1675  began  what  he 
meant  should  be  a  war  of  extermination  of  the 
pale-faced  usurpers.  The  founders  of  the  ham 
let  that  was  presently  rechristened  "  Deerfield" 
must  have  quoted  often  from  the  one  Book 
they  knew  by  heart,  how,  while  another  town 
was  in  building,  "  every  one,  with  one  of  his 
hands  wrought  in  the  work,  and  with  the  other 
held  a  weapon."  They  were  brave  of  heart  who 
planned  the  undertaking  while  Metacomet's 
summons,  like  the  roar  of  a  wounded  lion,  was 
drawing  into  his  train  the  remnants  of  scattered 
tribes  from  their  hiding-places  and  marshalling 
them  against  the  common  foe. 

o 

Our  forefathers  needed  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures  —  unrevised — and  made  much  of 
them.  When  the  chief  man  of  the  colony,  his 
sword  girded  upon  his  thigh  and  his  musket 
ready  to  his  hand,  read  aloud  to  his  work 
men — 

"  Be  ye  not  afraid  of  them.  Remember  the 
Lord  which  is  great  and  terrible,  and  fight  for 
your  brethren,  your  sons  and  your  daughters, 


380       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

your  wives,  and  your  houses  "-—they  listened 
as  to  an  oracle  given  that  day  from  heaven. 
If  we  would  enter  into  the  full  and  sympa 
thetic  comprehension  of  the  narrative  given  in 
this  chapter,  we  must  bear  these  things  con 
tinually  in  mind.  The  mainspring  of  individ 
ual  and  colonial  emprise  at  that  date  was  not 
so  much  patriotism  as  religion.  Abraham  did 
not  believe  more  devoutly  in  the  pledge — "  I 
will  give  unto  thee,  and  to  thy  seed  after  thee, 
the  land  wherein  thou  art  a  stranger" — than 
the  exile  to  whose  inmost  heart  England  was 
still  "  home,"  the  earthly  Paradise  to  which  he 
must  not  look  back  while  the  dispossession  of 
the  Canaanite  was  bound  upon  his  conscience, 
and  Heaven  was  the  reward  of  him  that  over 
came. 

The  infant  settlement  upon  the  very  frontier 
of  the  colony  was  not  five  years  old  when  an 
outgoing  train  of  wagons,  laden  with  grain 
and  guarded  by  soldiers,  was  attacked  by 
Indians  at  a  brook  that  skirts  the  western 
foot-hills,  and  seventy  men — "  the  flower  of 
Essex  County  " — were  killed. 

Eleven  years  later,  the  dauntless,  because 
devout,  settlers  had  a  town,  and  as  a  town, 
voted  to  call  Rev.  John  Williams  to  be  their 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     381 

minister  (the  title  "pastor"  was  not  yet  in 
vogue),  upon  a  salary  of  "  sixty  pounds  a  year 
for  the  present,  and,  four  or  five  years  after 
this  agreement,  to  add  to  the  salary,  and  make 
it  eighty  pounds." 

It  is  deliciously  refreshing  in  this  day  of 
itching  ears  in  the  pews  and  itineracy  in  the 
pulpit,  to  note  the  quiet  assumption  that  their 
minister  had  come  to  the  church,  as  his  people 
to  the  land,  "  to  stay."  The  four  or  five  years 
of  delay  in  the  increase  of  salary  were  allowed 
because  the  parish  in  that  time  would  become 
the  better  able  to  pay  him  more.  The  twenty 
pounds'  addition  to  the  original  stipend  was 
not  contingent  upon  his  "drawing"  qualities. 

He  had  ministered  unto  them  for  ten  years 
when  he  set  his  signature — crabbed  characters 
that  misrepresent  the  true  manliness  and  gentle 
heart  of  him  who  traced  them — to  the  follow 
ing  specification  : 

"  The  town  to  pay  their  salary  to  me  in 
wheat,  pease,  Indian  corn  and  pork,  at  the 
prices  stated,  viz  :  wheat  at  $s.  3^.  per  bushel, 
Indian  corn  at  2s.  per  bushel,  fatted  pork  at 
2d.  per  pound.  These  being  the  terms  of  the 
bargain  made  with  me  at  first." 

Other  items  of  the  original   agreement   of 


382       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

which  this  is  only  a  formal  confirmation,  were 
that  "  they  would  give  him  sixteen  cow  com 
mons  of  meadow-land,  with  a  home-lot  that 
lyeth  on  the  meeting-house  hill — that  they  will 
build  him  a  house  forty-two  feet  long,  twenty 
feet  wide,  and  a  linto  on  the  backside  of  the 
house,  to  fence  his  home  lot,  and  within  two 
years  after  this  agreement,  to  build  him  a  barn, 
and  break  up  his  ploughing  land." 

By  the  time  the  twenty-foot-front  cottage, 
with  the  "  linto  "  (in  which  we  recognize  de 
lightedly  the  "  lean-to,"  beloved  of  the  New 
England  housekeeper  a  century  thereafter)  was 
completed,  the  young  minister  had  a  wife  ready 
to  take  care  of  it  and  of  him.  Eunice  Mather 
was  born  August  2,  1664,  and  was  therefore 
four  months  the  senior  of  her  husband,  whose 
birthday  was  December  loth  of  the  same  year. 
She  came  of  godly  parentage.  Of  her  paternal 
grandfather,  Richard  Mather  of  Dorchester, 
Mass,  it  is  written  that  "  he  was,  for  fifty  years, 
never  detained  from  the  house  of  God,  not 
even  for  a  day,  by  sickness."  Her  mother's 
father  was  Rev.  John  Warham  of  Windham, 
Connecticut,  "  formerly  a  minister  of  Exeter, 
in  England."  As  the  saddest  passages  of  her 
history  will  show,  the  pastoress  was  a  woman 


The  "Parson  Williams"  House     3&3 

of  fervent  piety  and  great  force  of  character. 
Her  tomb-stone  quaintly  testifies  that  she  was 
"  a  virtuous  and  desirable  consort "  to  the  faith 
ful  minister  of  the  isolated  parish. 

Between  Deerfield  and  St.  Johns  in  Canada 
the  wilderness  was  unbroken  by  a  single  Eng 
lish  settlement,  a  circumstance  that  caused  no 
especial  solicitude  to  the  inhabitants.  King 
Philip's  death  at  the  hands  of  Captain  Benja 
min  Church  in  1676  had,  they  believed,  virtu 
ally  ended  everything  like  sustained  Indian 
warfare.  Life  in  the  prospering  village  rolled 
on, — not  easily — but  without  serious  jar  or 
break.  Token  of  the  terrible  days  of  which 
mothers  spoke  shudderingly  to  children  who 
had  never  heard  the  war-whoop,  remained  in 
stout  stockades  surrounding  the  older  parts  of 
the  town,  and  perhaps  one  third  of  the  dwell 
ings  were  built  of  two  walls  of  logs  or  boards, 
the  space  between  the  inner  and  outer  being 
filled  with  bricks. 

The  parsonage  was  within  a  stockade,  to 
gether  with  several  other  dwellings,  but  not 
otherwise  defended.  In  it  were  born,  in  the 
seventeen  years  of  the  parents'  married  life, 
nine  children.  Eliakim,  the  first-born,  died  in 
early  infancy,  Eleazar,  Samuel,  Esther,  Ste- 


384       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

phen,  Eunice,  Warham,  the  second  Eliakim, 
and  John,  were  living  when  the  tragedy  oc 
curred  that  broke  up  the  happy  family-life  for 
ever,  and  stamped  a  bloody  cross  over  against 
the  history  of  the  lovely  New  England  town. 

I  have  wavered  long  between  the  inclination 
to  give  here  a  weird  and  dramatic  story  that 
has  the  attestation  of  several  respectable  nar 
rators  of  the  Deerfield  massacre,  and  my  un 
willingness  to  set  the  sanction  of  history  upon 
what  may  be  untrustworthy  tradition.  Be  it 
historical  or  legendary,  the  tale  of  the  "  Crusade 
of  the  Bell  "  is  too  interesting  to  be  omitted 
from  Colonial  Sagas. 

The  tale  is  emphatically  discredited,  I  am 
informed,  by  Miss  Alice  Baker  in  her  new  and 
valuable  True  Stories  of  New  England  Cap 
tives  carried  to  Canada  during  the  Old  French 
and  Indian  Wars, — and  meaner  authorities 
may  well  be  diffident  in  citing  that  which  she 
condemns  as  worse  than  doubtful.  In  the  In 
troduction — entitled  "  The  Historical  Back 
ground"-— to  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Williams  Champ- 
ney's  charming  book — Great  Grandmother  s 
Girls  in  New  France,  the  author  says  : 

"  The  beautiful  legend  of  the  Deerfield  Bell 
which,  I  found,  was  firmly  believed  among  the 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     385 

Canadian  Indians,  I  have  not  used  because  our 
cheerful  and  painstaking  local  historian  and 
antiquarian,  the  Hon.  George  Sheldon,  to 
whom  I  am  greatly  indebted  for  material  for 
this  story,  has  reason  to  doubt  its  authenticity." 

With  this  candid  warning  to  the  imaginative 
reader,  I  proceed  to  the  recital  of  what  may 
or  may  not  be  a  myth,  but  which  accounts  sat 
isfactorily  for  an  irruption  for  which  hapless 
settlers  in  the  Pocumptuck  Valley  were  unpre 
pared  by  any  recent  hostile  demonstrations. 
Mrs.  Champney  writes  aptly  of  the  hush  that 
preceded  the  thunderbolt  : 

"  Then  came  a  little  interval  of  peace,  dur 
ing  which  France  and  England  were  engaged 
in  setting  up  their  chessmen  for  another  trial 
of  skill  on  the  great  American  chess-board." 

Our  legend  goes  back  of  this  calm  to  tell 
that,  several  years  before,  certain  pious  and 
great  folk  in  France  had  a  bell  cast  as  a  gift  to 
a  Jesuit  Mission  Church  in  Canada.  The  ves 
sel  containing  the  bell  was  captured  on  the 
way  across  the  sea,  by  a  British  privateer,  and 
the  cargo  taken  to  Boston  and  sold.  The 
precious  bell  was  bought  for  the  Deerfield 
church  and  duly  hung  in  the  steeple.  News 
travelled  slowly  then,  and  the  Canadian  Mis- 


•; 


386       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

sion  did  not  learn  until  many  months  had 
passed,  what  had  become  of  their  property. 
When  the  truth  was  known  a  French  priest 
began  to  urge  upon  his  neophytes  the  sacred 
duty  of  rescuing  the  treasure  from  heretic 
hands,  and  retaliation  for  the  sacrilege  done 
upon  a  consecrated  vessel  of  the  Church.  Ma 
jor  Hertel  de  Rouville  (who  was  made  a  Count 
for  his  conduct  of  the  enterprise)  adroitly 
seized  upon  the  religious  zeal  thus  inflamed, 
as  an  agent  in  carrying  out  a  projected  attack 
upon  the  unsuspecting  colonists.  Two  of  his 
brothers  were  among  the  officers  of  the  expedi 
tion,  which  consisted  of  two  hundred  French 
men  and  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  Indians. 
The  time  chosen  was  February  of  an  unusu 
ally  severe  winter.  The  snow  lay  deep  upon 
the  ground,  and  had  drifted  against  the  north 
side  of  the  stockade,  forming  an  inclined  plane 
from  the  points  of  the  pickets  to  the  level. 
This  was  frozen  so  hard  that  it  bore  the  weight 
of  the  Indians  as  they  ran  up  the  slope  and 
leaped  into  the  enclosure  below. 

The  sentinels,  made  careless  by  weeks  and 
months  of  security,  had  taken  refuge  from  the 
inclement  night  within  the  "  forts,"  as  the  spaces 
surrounded  by  pickets  were  called.  Separat- 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     387 

ing  into  parties,  the  invaders  went  from  house 
to  house,  crashing  in  doors  and  windows  and, 
in  many  homes,  tomahawking  the  occupants 
in  their  sleep. 

The  strongest  and  largest  house  in  the  vil 
lage  belonged  to  Captain  John  Sheldon,  and 
was  the  first  that  offered  any  resistance  to  the 
enemy.  The  cloor  was  thick  set  with  great 
nails,  and  barred  upon  the  inside.  Failing  to 
break  it  clown,  the  Indians  contrived  to  hack  a 
hole  in  it  with  their  hatchets  and  through  the 

o 

aperture  shot  Mrs.  Sheldon  as  she  was  hur 
riedly  dressing.  When  they,  at  last,  effected  an 
entrance,  they  used  the  Sheldon  house  and  the 
church  as  temporary  jails  for  the  prisoners  col 
lected  from  different  parts  of  the  town.  But 
one  building  held  out  successfully  against  them 
— one  of  the  double-walled  block-houses,  de 
fended  by  seven  men  and  "a  few  women." 
From  the  narrow  windows  a  sharp  fire  was 
kept  up  that  killed  several  of  the  enemy  and 
drove  the  rest  back. 

There  slept  in  the  Parsonage  that  night,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Williams  and  six  children.  Eleazar, 
the  eldest  living  child,  a  lad  of  sixteen,  was  ab 
sent  from  home  on  a  visit  to  a  neighboring 
town.  Besides  the  family  proper,  Captain 


388       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Stoddard  and  another  soldier  lodged  there,  and 
a  negro  servant  had  an  attic  room.  With  Mrs. 
Williams,  in  bed,  was  an  infant  that  had  been 
born  on  January  i5th.  The  attack  on  the 
town  was  made  February  29,  i  704  being  Leap 
Year. 

By  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Champney  I  am 
enabled  to  construct  the  story  of  what  followed 
from  Mr.  Williams's  own  account  of  it.  In 
1 706,  he  wrote  out  in  full  the  history  of  his 
captivity  under  the  title  of  The  Redeemed  Cap 
tive,  Returning  to  Zion.  The  book,  dedicated 
to  "  His  Excellency  Joseph  Dudley,  Esq.,  Cap 
tain  General  and  Governor  in  Chief,  in  and 
over  his  Majesty's  Provinces  of  the  Massachu 
setts  Bay  in  New  England,  etc."  lies  open  be 
fore  me  as  I  write.  It  is  a  thin  volume  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty-four  pages,  bound  in  brown 
leather  and  stained  on  every  page  with  the 
mysterious  blotches  which  are  the  thumb-marks 
of  Time.  To  him  who  would  draw  colonial 
history  from  the  fountain-head,  it  is  worth  more 
than  its  weight  in  gold. 

"  They  came  to  my  house  in  the  beginning  of  the  on 
set,"  writes  the  minister,  "  and  by  their  violent  endeavors 
to  break  open  doors  and  windows  with  axes  and  hatchets 
awaked  me  out  of  sleep  ;  on  which  I  leaped  out  of  bed. 


DOOR  FROM  SHELDON  HOUSE  HACKED  BY  INDIANS. 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     391 

and  running  towards  the  door,  perceived  the  enemy  mak 
ing  their  entrance  into  the  house  ;  I  called  to  awaken 
two  soldiers,  in  the  chamber  ;  and  returning  toward  my 
bedside  for  my  arm,  the  enemy  immediately  broke  into 
the  room,  I  judge,  to  the  number  of  twenty  with  painted 
faces,  and  hideous  acclamations.  I  reached  up  my  hands 
to  the  bed  tester,  for  my  pistol,  uttering  a  short  petition 
to  GOD,  for  everlasting  mercies  for  me  and  mine,  on  the  ac 
count  of  the  merits  of  our  glorified  Redeemer  ;  expecting 
a  present  passage  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,  saying  in  myself — '  /  said  in  the  cutting  of  my  days, 
I  shall  go  to  the  gates  of  the  grave  :  I  am  deprived  of  the 
residue  of  my  years.  I  said,  I  shall  not  see  the  Lord,  even 
the  Lord,  in  the  land  of  the  living  ;  I  shall  behold  man  no 
more,  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  world.' 

"  Taking  down  my  pistol,  I  cocked  it  and  put  it  to  the 
breast  of  the  first  Indian  that  came  up  ;  but  my  pistol 
missing  fire,  I  was  seized  by  three  Indians  who  disarmed 
me  and  bound  me  naked,  as  I  was  in  my  shirt,  and  so  I 
stood  for  the  space  of  an  hour.  Binding  me,  they  told 
me  they  would  carry  me  to  Quebeck.  My  Pistol  missing 
fire,  was  an  occasion  of  my  life's  being  preserved  ;  since 
which  I  have  also  found  it  profitable  to  be  crossed  in  my 
own  will." 

One  of  the  three  captors  was  killed  at  sun 
rise  by  a  well-aimed  shot  from  the  block-house 
garrisoned  by  the  seven  men  "  and  a  few  wo 
men." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williams  and  four  of  the  larger 
children  were  allowed  to  dress  themselves. 


392       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  baby  and  Eliakim,  the  next  in  age,  were 
killed  before  the  parents'  eyes  as  too  young  to 
endure  the  journey.  The  negro  woman  shared 
their  fate.  Captain  John  Stoddard  leaped 
from  a  window  and  escaped  across  the  river  to 
Hatfield,  the  nearest  town,  where  he  gave  the 
alarm.  Deerfield  was  fired  and  the  survivors 
of  the  massacre,  in  number  about  one  hundred 
and  twelve,  were  driven  over  the  river  and  col 
lected  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  under  guard, 
while  preparations  were  made  for  departure. 

"  The  journey  being  at  least  three  hundred 
miles  we  were  to  travel  ;  the  snow  up  to  the 
knees,  and  we  never  inured  to  such  hardships 
and  fatigues ;  the  place  we  were  to  be  carried 
to,  a  Popish  country" 

The  last  section  of  the  above  paragraph 
jars  upon  nineteenth-century  sensibilities  as  a 
false  note  in  a  recital  that  might  have  been 
written  with  the  mourner's  heart-blood.  As 
we  read  later  pages  of  the  story  we  cannot 
doubt  that  the  reflection  was  an  added  pang. 

Snowshoes  were  fitted  upon  the  captives' 
feet,  and  children  who  could  not  tramp  through 
four  feet  of  crusty  snow,  were  distributed  among 
such  of  the  Indians  as  were  willing  to  carry 
them  on  their  shoulders.  The  task  was  inter- 


The  "  Parson  Williams  "  House     393 

rupted  by  an  incident  that  must  have  kindled 
a  spark  of  hope  in  the  despairing  hearts  of  the 
prisoners.  The  rescue-party  from  Hatfield 
"  beat  out  a  company  that  remained  in  the 
town  and  pursued  them  to  the  river,  killing 
and  wounding  many  of  them  ;  but  the  body  of 
the  army" —the  French  and  Indians — "  being 
alarmed,  they  repulsed  those  few  English  that 
pursued  them.  .  .  ." 

"After  this,  we  went  up  the  mountain,  and  saw  the 
smoke  of  the  fires  in  the  town  and  beheld  the  awful 
desolations  of  Deerfield  :  And  before  we  marched  any 
farther,  they  killed  a  sucking  child  of  the  English.  There 
were  slain  by  the  enemy  of  the  inhabitants  of  Deerfield, 
to  the  number  of  thirty-eight,  besides  nine  of  the  neigh 
boring  towns." 

These  nine  were  of  those  who  risked  their 
lives  in  the  ineffectual  attempt  to  succor  the 
unfortunates. 

Thus  began  the  awful  march  of  twenty-five 
days  to  the  village  of  Chamblee,  about  fifteen 
miles  from  Montreal. 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  Mr.  Wil 
liams  changed  "  masters"  (they  were  that  al 
ready),  and  was  permitted  by  the  new  guard  to 
walk  beside  his  wife,  give  her  his  arm,  and  to 
talk  freely  with  her.  I  shrink  from  using  other 


394       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

words  than  his  in  describing  what  passed  be 
tween  the  sorrowing  pair  during  the  last  hours 
they  were  to  spend  together  on  earth. 

"On  the  way" — (and  what  a  way  !) — "  we  discoursed 
of  the  happiness  of  those  who  had  a  right  to  an  house  not 
made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens,  and  GOD  for  a 
father  and  friend,  as,  also,  that  it  was  our  reasonable 
duty,  quietly  to  submit  to  the  will  of  GOD  and  to  say,  the 
will  of  the  Lord  be  done.  My  wife  told  me  her  strength 
of  body  began  to  fail,  and  that  I  must  expect  to  part 
with  her,  saying  she  hoped  GOD  would  preserve  my  life, 
and  the  life  of  some,  if  not  of  all  our  children,  with  us  ; 
and  commended  to  me,  under  GOD,  the  care  of  them. 
She  never  spake  any  discontented  word  as  to  what  had 
befallen  us,  but  with  suitable  expressions  justified  GOD 
in  what  had  happened.  We  soon  made  a  halt  in  which 
time  my  chief  master  came  up,  upon  which  I  was  put 
upon  marching  with  the  foremost,  and  so  made  to  take 
my  last  farewell  of  my  dear  wife,  the  desire  of  my  eyes, 
and  companion  in  many  mercies  and  afflictions.  Upon 
our  separation  from  each  other,  we  asked  for  each  other, 
grace  sufficient  for  what  GOD  should  call  us  to." 

I  know  of  but  one  true  narrative  of  human 
suffering  and  pious  resignation  comparable 
with  that  which  I  have  copied  from  the  coarse 
paper,  discolored  by  the  damps  of  almost  two 
centuries. 

When  her  straining  eyes  lost  sight  of  her 
husband's  form  bending  under  the  pack  lashed 


The  ''Parson  Williams"  House     395 

upon  his  shoulders  by  his  "  master,"  this  wo 
man,  who  had  seen  within  forty-eight  hours 
two  of  her  children  die  under  the  tomahawk, 
and  four  more,  including  two  tender  daugh 
ters,  driven  into  captivity  worse  than  death, 
sat  down  upon  the  snow  to  await  the  order  to 
march,  and  "  spent  the  few  remaining  minutes 
of  her  stay  in  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures." 
To  what  portion  of  them  could  she  turn  with 
such  certainty  of  finding  an  echo  of  her  desola 
tion  and  a  stay  to  her  sublime  faith,  as  to  the 
chapter  that  ends  with,  "In  all  this  Job  sinned 
not,  nor  attributed  folly  to  GOD  ?  " 

"  With  suitable  expressions  "  she  had  justified 
Him  in  what  had  happened.  It  was  her  habit, 
we  are  told,  "  personally  every  day  to  delight 
her  soul  in  reading,  praying,  meditating  on, 
and  over  by  herself  in  her  closet,"  the  Bible 
which  she  had  not  forgotten  to  bring  away 
from  the  lost  home  in  whose  burning  the  bodies 
of  her  slain  children  were  consumed.  Her 
oratory  on  this,  the  second  day  of  a  wintry 
March,  was  upon  the  bank  of  Green  River, 
about  five  miles  from  the  present  town  of  Green 
field.  In  summer  it  is  shallowed  to  an  insig 
nificant  creek.  Swollen  by  the  heavy  snows, 
it  was  then  nearly  two  feet  deep  and  an  ice- 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


cold  torrent.  The  party  that  included  her  hus 
band  and  eleven-year-old  Stephen,  had  waded 
through  the  swift  current  and  were  out  of  sight 
upon  the  wooded  heights  beyond,  when  Mrs. 
Williams  and  her  companions  were  ordered  to 
follow.  She  was  not  half-way  across  when  the 
water  bore  her  off  her  feet  and,  as  she  fell,  went 
over  her  head.  Weakened  by  her  recent  ill 
ness  and  the  hardships  and  distress  of  the  past 
two  days,  she  dragged  herself  up  and  to  the 
shore,  sinking  there  too  much  exhausted  to 
walk  a  step  further,  much  less  to  climb  the 
mountain  at  the  foot  of  which  she  lay.  With 
one  stroke  of  his  tomahawk  her  "  master  "  put 
her  out  of  pain  and  forever  beyond  the  reach 
of  sorrow. 

A  little  company  of  her  former  neighbors, 
following  cautiously  upon  the  Indians'  trail 
some  days  later,  found  her  body,  brought  it 
back  to  Deerfield  and  gave  it  loving  burial. 
The  inscription  upon  the  time-battered  stone 
in  the  town  burying-ground  may  still  be  de 
ciphered  : 

"  Here  lyeth  the  body  of  Mrs.  Eunice  Williams,  the 
virtuous  and  desirable  consort  of  the  Rev.  John  Williams 
and  daughter  of  Rev.  Eleazar  and  Mrs.  Esther  Mather  of 
Northampton.  She  was  born  Aug.  2,  1664,  and  fell  by  the 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     397 

rage   of  the   barbarous   enemy,    March   I.    1703-4.     Her 
children  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed." 

The  terrible  news  was  elicited  by  the  hus 
band  from  other  of  the  prisoners  who  overtook 
him  at  the  top  of  the  hill  where  he  was  per 
mitted  by  his  master  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes 
and  to  lay  aside  his  pack.  Mr.  Williams  was 
begging  to  be  also  allowed  to  return  to  look  after 
his  wife  as  the  sad  train  came  up  with  him.  To 
the  horror  of  the  shock  succeeded  "  comfort 
able  hopes  of  her  being  taken  away,  in  mercy 
to  herself  from  the  evils  we  were  to  see,  feel, 
and  suffer  under,  and  joined  to  the  assembly  of 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  to  rest  in 
peace  and/<?j'  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory." 

To  the  devout  believer  it  was  not  a  far  cry 
from  the  bleak  mountain-top  to  the  gates  of 
the  Celestial  City.  While  he  toiled  onward, 
taunted  by  his  master  for  the  tears  he  could 
not  restrain,  his  soul  arose  in  the  last  prayer 
he  was  to  offer  for  the  wife  of  his  youth  : 

"  I  begged  of  GOD  to  overrule  in  his  providence  that 
the  corpse  of  one  so  dear  to  me,  and  whose  spirit  he  had 
taken  to  dwell  with  him  in  glory,  might  meet  with  a 
Christian  burial,  and  not  be  left  for  meat  to  the  fowls  of 
the  air,  and  the  beasts  of  the  earth.  A  mercy  that  GOD 
graciously  vouchsafed  to  grant." 


398       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Before  hurrying  on  to  the  arrival  of  the 
captives  at  Chamblee,  I  cannot  refrain  from 
transcribing  a  passage  that  is  infinitely  pathetic 
and  also,  in  the  ending,  graphically  significant 
of  the  militant  Protestantism  interwoven  with 
the  very  roots  of  our  minister's  being. 

"  On  the  Sabbath  day,  (March  5,)  we  rested,  and  I  was 
permitted  to  pray,  and  to  preach  to  the  captives.  The 
place  of  scripture  spoken  from,  was  Lam.  i.  18  :  The 
Lord  is  righteous,  for  I  have  rebelled  against  his  command 
ment  :  Hear  I  pray  you,  all  people,  and  behold  my  sorrow  : 
My  virgins  and  my  young  men  are  gone  into  captivity. 

"  The  enemy  who  said  to  us,  Sing  us  one  of  Zions  songs, 
were  ready  some  of  them,  to  upbraid  us,  because  our 
singing  was  not  so  loud  as  theirs.  When  the  Macquas 
and  Indians  were  chief  in  power,  we  had  this  revival  in 
our  bondage,  to  join  together  in  the  worship  of  GOD, 
and  encourage  one  another  to  a  patient  bearing  the 
indignation  of  the  Lord,  till  he  should  plead  our  cause. 
When  we  arrived  at  New  France  "  (Canada)  "  we  were 
forbidden  praying  with  one  another \  or  joining  together  in 
the  service  of  GOD." 

Four  closely  printed  pages  are  devoted  to 
struggles  with  the  Jesuits  at  Fort  St.  Francois, 
who  invited  him  to  dinner,  and,  after  the  meal, 
informed  him  that  he,  with  the  other  captives, 
would  be  forced  to  attend  mass.  He  argued 
with  them  upon  the  disputed  points  between 


UJ 

2  x 

O  *~ 

CO  Z 

cc  o 

<  m 

°-  i 


The  "  Parson  Williams  "  House     401 

the  two  communions  until  their  breath  and 
patience  gave  out.  When  "  forcibly  pulled  by 
the  head  and  shoulders  out  of  the  wigwam  into 
the  church,"  he  listened,  smiling  pityingly  at 
the  "  great  confusion,  where  there  should  be 
gospel  order "  ;  an'd  when  the  holy  fathers 
returned  to  the  charge,  met  them  with  "what 
Christ  said  of  the  traditions  of  men."  At  the 
end  of  the  controversy  : — 

"  I  told  them  that  it  was  my  comfort  that 
Christ  was  to  be  my  judge,  and  not  they  at 
the  great  day.  As  for  their  censuring  and 
judging  me,  I  was  not  moved  with  it." 

Neither  was  he  shaken  when  his  master,  with 
the  fiery  zeal  of  a  proselyte,  commanded  him, 
tomahawk  in  air,  to  kiss  a  crucifix  the  savage 

o 

had  pulled  from  his  own  neck.  "And  seeing  I 
was  not  moved,  threw  down  his  hatchet,  saying 
he  would  first  bite  off  all  my  nails  if  I  refused. 
.  .  .  He  set  his  teeth  in  my  thumb-nail,  and 
gave  a  gripe,  ancl  then  said,  No  good  minister, 
no  love  God,  as  bad  as  the  Devil  \  and  so  left 
off." 

Again,  in  Montreal,  he  did  not  blench  in  the 
fire  of  polemics  and  persecution,  and  wrangled 
valiantly  with  the  Jesuits  in  Quebec  over  the 
dinner  with  which  they  hoped  to  mollify  him. 

20 


402       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

The  crucial  test  was  applied  when  the  Superior 
of  the  Jesuits,  after  eight  months  of  the  cap 
tivity  had  dragged  by,  offered  to  restore  his 
children  to  him  and  provide  an  honorable 
maintenance  for  them  and  for  him  if  he  would 
abjure  his  faith. 

With  the  reply,  the  lofty  intrepidity  of  which 
touches  sublimity,  I  shut  the  priceless  little 
book  : 

"  I  answered,  'Sir,  if  I  thought  your  religion 
to  be  true,  I  would  embrace  it  freely  without  any 
such  offer,  but  so  long  as  I  believe  it  to  be  what 
it  is,  the  offer  of  the  whole  world  is  of  no  more 
value  to  me  than  a  BLACKBERRY.'  " 

Italics  and  capitals  are  his  own. 


XVII 

THE  PARSON  WILLIAMS  HOUSE  AT 
DEERFIELD,  MASSACHUSETTS 

(  Concluded) 

IN  company  with  fifty-seven  of  his  flock,  out 
of  the  hundred  and  twelve  who  were  car 
ried  into  captivity  with  him,  on  that  black 
February  29,  1/04,  Mr.  Williams  arrived  in 
Boston  on  November  21,  1706.  The  colonial 
authorities,  backed  by  the  Home  government, 
had  not  ceased  to  labor  for  their  ransom  dur 
ing  all  these  dreary  and  painful  months,  and 
the  capital  city  received  him  with  open  arms. 

Two  of  his  children  returned  with  him — 
Samuel  and  Esther.  Stephen  had  been  ran 
somed  a  year  before  ;  Warham  was  restored 
to  his  father's  arms  in  1707, — "  having  entirely 
lost  the  English  language,  and  could  speak 
nothing  but  French."  Eleazar,  who  had  es- 

403 


404       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

caped  captivity  by  his  temporary  absence  from 
Deerfield,  had  been  cared  for  by  friends  in  his 
father's  absence,  and  was  now  at  Harvard.  Of 
the  missing  Eunice  we  shall  hear  more  and 
somewhat  at  length  presently. 

The  minister  delayed  his  return  to  Deer- 
field  for  more  than  a  month,  naturally  enough, 
it  seems  to  us.  Inured  as  he  was  to  calamity, 
and  complete  as  was  his  justification  of  the 
ways  of  God,  he  was  but  a  man,  and  the 
scenes  attending  his  departure  from  home 
were  sufficiently  vivid  in  memory  without  the 
harrowing;  associations  that  must  be  awakened 

o 

by  revisiting  the  spot.  Within  ten  days  after 
his  arrival  in  Boston  he  was  waited  upon  by  a 
committee  from  the  Deerfield  church,  armed 
with  a  unanimous  call  to  him  to  renew  his 
work  among  them.  This  committee  no  doubt 
formed  a  part  of  the  great  crowd  that  packed 
the  "Boston  Lecture"  on  December  5,  1/06, 
to  hear  "  A  Sermon  by  John  Williams,  Pas 
tor  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in  Deerfield  soon 
after  his  return  from  captivity." 
The  text  was  double-headed  : 

"  Psal.  cvii.,  13,  14,  15,  32. 

'  '  He  saved  them  out  of  their  distresses.  He  brought  them 
cut  of  darkness,  and  the  shadow  of  death  ;  and  brake  ihcir 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     407 

bands  in  sunder.  O,  tJiat  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for 
his  goodness  ;  an.l  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
of  men.  .  .  .  Let  them  exalt  him  also  in  the  congrega 
tion  of  the  people,  and  praise  him  in  the  assembly  of  the  elect.' 
"  Psal.  xxxiv.,  3. 

'  '  O,  magnify  the  Lord  with  me,  and  let  us  exalt  his  name 
together'  " 

In  the  sincerity  of  their  thankfulness  at  hav 
ing  him  back  with  them,  the  Deerfield  church 
and  parish  built  for  him  the  house  which  is 
still  standing  in  Old  Deerfield,  and  upon  a 
scale  that  dwarfs  our  recollection  of  the 
twenty-by-forty  cottage  with  the  convenient 
"linto." 

"January  9,  1706-7.  Att  a  Legall  Town  meeting  in 
Deerfield,  It  was  yn  agreed  and  voted  yt  ye  Towne 
would  build  a  house  for  Mr.  Jno.  Williams  in  Derfield 
as  big  as  Ens.  Jno.  Sheldon's,  a  back  room  as  big  as 
may  be  thought  convenient.  It  was  also  voted  yt  Ens. 
Jno.  Sheldon,  Sar  Thomas  ffrench,  and  Edward  Alln 
ware  chosen  a  Comity  for  carving  on  said  work."  * — 
History  of  Deerfield,  vol.  i.,  p.  360. 

The  new  parsonage  was  two  stories  in  height, 
with  four  rooms  upon  each  floor.  The  walls 

*  In  1729,  or  thereabouts,  a  visitor  to  Deerfield  made  a  pen-and- 
ink  sketch  of  the  Williams  church  and  homestead.  Mrs.  Eels,  an 
elderly  resident  of  the  town,  founded  upon  this  the  painting  from 
which  is  taken  our  picture  of  the  buildings  in  their  original  form. 
No  other  representation  of  these  interesting  relics  of  the  age  of  the 
•captivity  is  extant. 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


were  handsomely  panelled.  A  wide  hall  ran 
through  the  centre  of  the  lower  story,  and  a 
fine  staircase  wound  deliberately  to  the  upper. 
A  marked  peculiarity  of  the  dwelling,  as  origi 
nally  constructed,  was  a  secret  staircase  that 
crooked  itself  about  the  chimney  from  the 
attic  —  where  the  terminus  was  a  cubby-hole 
of  a  room,  less  than  six  feet  square,  nestled 
beneath  the  slope  of  the  roof  —  down  to  the 
cellar-stairs,  and  so  on  to  a  tunnel  leading  to 
the  river.  So  many  of  the  better  class  of 
homesteads  erected  late  in  the  seventeenth, 
and  early  in  the  eighteenth,  century  were 
provided  with  similar  passages  that  there  is 
little  cause  for  the  variety  of  conjectures  as 
to  their  excuses  and  uses  indulged  in  by  the 
visitor  of  our  pacific  period.  Inspectors  of 
the  Deerfield  manse  have  been  especially 
ingenious  in  suggestions  respecting  the  stairs 
and  subterranean  gallery  that  formerly  existed 
here.  The  most  obvious  and  rational  explan 
ation,  to  wit,  that  the  parish  —  in  view  of  the 
fact  that,  as  a  local  historian  puts  it,  "  Mr. 
Williams,  after  a  serious  consideration,  ac 
cepted  the  call,  although  the  war  continued 
with  unabated  fury,  and  the  inhabitants  were 
kept  in  a  constant  state  of  alarm  "-—resolved  to 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     409 

put  their  beloved  pastor  and  his  household,  so 
far  as  was  possible,  beyond  the  hazard  of  a  repe 
tition  of  the  horrors  and  perils  that  had  bereft 
them  of  him  less  than  three  years  before. 
The  inner  staircase,  the  hiding-place  under  the 
roof,  and  the  underground  escape-way,  as  a 
last  resort,  should  the  house  be  fired  over  the 
colonists'  heads,  were  already  an  old  story. 
The  provision  of  all  three  was  a  continual 
object-lesson  to  the  "  redeemed  captive  "  of 
their  desire  and  intention  that  he  should  live 
and  die  among  them. 

Others  will  have  it,  upon  what  authority  we 
know  not,  that  Mr.. Williams,  made  timid  by 
the  past,  himself  went  to  the  expense  and 
trouble  of  having  these  constructed.  A  third 
party  is  ready  with  stories  of  smuggling  car 
ried  on  by  the  most  righteous  men  of  the 
colony,  and  hints  as  to  the  availability  of  the 
passage-cellar  as  a  storehouse  for  valuable 
cargoes  landed  from  boats  at  night  in  the 
thickets  that  bordered  Deerfield  River.  It 
cannot  be  controverted  that  many  fortunes  were 
made,  and  now  and  then  one  was  lost,  in  com 
mercial  enterprises  of  this  complexion, — trans 
actions  so  much  more  respectable  in  our  for 
bears'  eyes  than  in  ours,  that  the  possibility  of 


4*0      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

our  hero's  connivance  in  them  need  not  bar  him 
out  from  our  respectful  sympathy.  All  the 
same,  we  prefer  not  to  believe  the  unflattering 
tale. 

Almost  as  unlikely  is  the  theory  that  the 
carefully  constructed  stairway  was  merely  a 
sort  of  kitchen  back-stairs  which,  by  and  by, 
was  considered  useless  and  done  away  with, 
the  landings  being  converted  into  pantries 
which  are  commonplace  enough  as  we  now 
see  them.  A  beautiful  china-closet  of  red 
cedar,  the  top  carved  like  a  shell,  is  in  the 
Memorial  Hall  of  Deerfield,  "  dedicated  with 
fitting  observance,"  Sept.  8,  1880,  such  men  as 
Charles  Dudley  Warner,  Charles  Eliot  Norton, 
and  George  William  Curtis  bearing  a  part  in 
the  solemn  ceremony.  The  closet  was  set  up  in 
the  new  Parsonage  for  the  use  of  Mr.  Williams's 
second  wife  when  he  married  within  a  year 
after  his  second  installation  over  the  church. 
She  was  Miss  Abigail  Allen  of  Windsor, 
Connecticut,  and  a  cousin  of  Eunice  Mather. 
To  them  were  born  five  children.  Among 
them  was  a  second  John,  named,  probably  in 
tenderly  compassionate  memory  of  the  month- 
old  nursling  torn  by  murderous  hands  from  his 
mother's  breast.  Those  of  us  who  have  read 


CEDAR  CHINA-CLOSET  FROM   "  PARSON   WILLIAMS"   HOUSE. 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     4!3 

Rose  Terry  Cooke's  capital  tale  of  Freedom 
Wheeler  s  Controversy,  pay  fresh  tribute  to 
her  rare  skill  in  depicting  New  England  traits 
and  customs,  in  seeing  that  a  third  Eliakim 
stands  next  to  John  on  the  list.  They  wasted 
no  middle  names  upon  babies,  at  that  date, 
and  even  at  that  had  not  enough  to  go 
around. 

The  second  John,  born  November  23,  1709, 
was  less  than  a  year  old  when  his  father  ac 
cepted  the  office  of  chaplain  in  the  movement 
against  Canada  led  by  Admiral  Walker  and 
General  Hill,  and  in  the  next  year  revisited  the 
land  of  his  captivity  yet  again,  in  the  same  capa 
city  in  a  winter  expedition  under  the  conduct 
of  Colonel,  formerly  Captain,  Stoddard  for 
the  express  purpose  of  redeeming  prisoners. 
For  some  reason,  not  given  by  his  biographer, 
he  made  a  brief  sojourn  in  the  unfriendly 
country.  He  was  back  in  Deerfield  before 
three  months  were  over,  and  remained  there 
until  his  death,  June  12,  1729,  in  the  sixty- 
fifth  year  of  his  age  and  the  forty-fourth  of 
his  ministry.  His  people  mourned  for  him  as 
for  a  prophet  and  leader. 

One  biographical  notice,  penned  by  a  brother 
clergyman,  cites  his 


4H       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  voluntary  abandonment  of  the  scenes  of  his  beloved 
nativity,  secure  from  the  incursions  of  the  savages,  to 
settle  in  a  frontier  place,  perpetually  exposed  to  their 
depredations  .  .  .  and  his  return  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  subject  to  the  same  dangers,  after  the  com 
plicated  afflictions  of  his  captivity,"  as  proofs  of  ardent 
love  for  the  people  of  his  care  ;  and  that  "  he  was  ani 
mated  with  the  spirit  of  a  martyr  in  the  advancement  of 
the  Gospel." 

This  Representative  Man  of  the  New  Eng 
land  of  that  hard  and  heroic  period  was  the 
very  stoutest  stuff  of  which  martyrs  are  made. 
He  fought  what  his  honest  soul  conceived  to 
be  deadly  error  as  Christian  fought  Apollyon. 
A  volume  written  by  him  is  still  preserved  as  a 
literary  and  ecclesiastical  curiosity.  His 
autograph  is  upon  the  flyleaf  and  the  title- 
page  bears  the  caption  :  Some  joco-serious  re 
flections  upon  Romish  fopperies.  It  was  penned 
in  a  lighter  vein  than  was  common  with  him 
at  sight  of  the  scarlet  flag.  In  summing  up 
his  "  afflictions  and  trials  ;  my  wife  and  two 
children  killed,  and  many  of  my  neighbors, 
and  myself  and  so  many  of  my  children  and 
friends  in  a  Popish  captivity"  he  meant  the 
italicized  words  to  be  the  climax  of  his 
sorrows. 

Hearing    that    his    son    Samuel    had    been 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     415 

11  turned  to  Popery,"  he  made  time  in  the 
intervals  of  his  labors  under  a  taskmaster,  to 
write  a  letter  of  ten  pages  to  the  lad,  which 
brought  him  back  to  the  old  fold,  in  which  he 
remained,  a  joy  and  comfort  to  his  father,  until 
his  death  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-four. 

Eleazar  was  ordained  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry  in  1710,  and  his  children  played  about 
their  grandfather's  knees  before  he  went  to  his 
reward.  Stephen,  whose  narrative  of  What 
befell  Stephen  Williams  in  his  Captivity,  indited 
soon  after  his  release,  is  an  extraordinary  pro 
duction  for  a  boy  of  twelve,  also  chose  his 
father's  profession,  after  his  graduation  from 
Harvard,  and  was  installed  in  the  picturesque 
town  of  Longmeadow,  Massachusetts,  in  1718. 
He  served  his  country  as  chaplain  in  three 
campaigns,  received  the  honorary  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Yale  and  also  from 
Dartmouth,  and  died,  full  of  years  and  honors, 
in  the  ninetieth  year  of  his  age.  Seven  grown 
sons  stood  by  the  coffin  at  his  funeral,  three 
of  whom  were  clergymen. 

The  grand  old  hero  of  Deerfield  saw  still  a 
third  son  in  the  pulpit, — Warham,  who  was  but 
four  years  old  at  the  captivity,  and  so  wrought 
upon  the  compassion  of  the  Indians  that  they 


4*6       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

carried  him  in  their  arms  and  drew  him  on 
their  sledges  until  they  reached  Montreal. 
There,  as  his  father  writes,  "  a  French  gentle 
woman,  pitying  the  child,  redeemed  it  out  of 
the  hands  of  the  heathen."  He,  like  his 
brothers,  was  a  Harvard  graduate,  and  was 
"  ordained  minister  of  Watertown,  west  pre 
cinct,  now  Waltham,  Mass.,"  June  u,  1723. 

"  A  burning  and  shining  light  of.  superior 
natural  powers  and  acquired  abilities,"  was  the 
encomium  passed  upon  him  by  one  who  knew 
him  and  his  work  well.  He  died,  June  22,  1751. 

Of  the  redeemed  captives  gathered  by  the 
father  in  the  new  home  at  Deerfield,  Esther, 
the  only  daughter  left  to  him,  has  compara 
tively  little  notice  from  biographers.  Her  fath 
er's  diary  (dated,  Sabbath,  March  12,  1704), 
couples  her  with  her  brother  Samuel  :  "  My 
son  Samuel  and  my  eldest  daughter  were 
pitied,  so  as  to  be  drawn  on  sleighs  when  un 
able  to  travel.  And  though  they  suffered  very 
much  through  scarcity  of  food  and  tedious 
journeys,  they  were  carried  through  to 
Montreal." 

We  may  picture  her  to  ourselves  as  the 
grave-eyed,  motherly  eldest  daughter  of  the 
manse,  precocious  in  care-taking,  who  had 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     417 

been  the  mother's  right  hand  and  confidante. 
We  know  nothing  except  that  during  her  cap 
tivity  she  was  under  the  care  of  Quebec  peo 
ple,  who  were  kind  to  the  motherless  girl  and 
"educated"  her.  She  married,  from  the  par 
sonage,  Rev.  Joseph  Meacham  of  Coventry, 
Conn.,  and  named  her  eldest  daughter,  "  Eu 
nice." 

Eleazar,  Stephen,  and  Warham  in  like  man 
ner  perpetuated  the  sacred  name.  As  long  as 
the  father  lived  it  was  uttered  daily  in  family 
worship,  sometimes  with  strong  crying  and 
tears,  always  with  groanings  of  spirit  that  had 
no  articulate  language. 

"  I  have  yet  a  daughter,  ten  years  of  age, 
whose  case  bespeaks  your  compassion,"  wrote 
John  Williams  in  1706  to  Governor  Dudley, 
who  had  "  readily  lent  his  own  son,  Mr.  Wil 
liam  Dudley,  to  undergo  the  hazards  and 
hardships  of  a  tedious  voyage  that  this  affair  " 
—the  release  of  the  captives — "  might  be 
transacted  with  success." 

In  this  diary  he  unwittingly  forecasts  her 
future. 

"  My  youngest  daughter,  aged  seven  years, 
was  carried  all  the  journey  and  looked  after 
with  a  great  deal  of  tenderness." 


4i 8       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

From  the  outset  of  her  new  life,  she  was 
virtually  adopted  by  her  captors.  When  Col 
onel  Stoddard  went  to  Canada  in  1 707,  to 
negotiate  terms  for  the  release  of  English 
prisoners,  he  "  was  successful  in  redeeming 
many  of  his  fellow  citizens,  but  he  could  not 
obtain  Eunice,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Williams." 

In  1711,  a  futile  attempt  was  made  by  an 
Indian  woman  of  the  Abenakis  tribe  to  ex 
change  Eunice  Williams  for  her  two  children, 
who  had  been  taken  prisoners  by  the  English. 

"  The  business  is  very  hard,  because  the 
girl  belongs  to  Indians  of  another  sort,  and  the 
master  is  now  in  Albany,"  says  a  letter  of  that 
date. 

Colonel  John  Schuyler  of  Albany  went  to 
Montreal  in  person,  April  15,  1713,  upon  a 
special  mission  to  secure  the  return  of  the 
daughter  of  Rev.  John  Williams,  "  now  captive 
amongst  the  Indians  at  the  fort  of  Caghono- 
waga  in  Canada.  He  was  to  insist  upon  her 
return,  and  persuade  her  to  go  to  her  father 
and  her  native  country,  it  being  upon  the  in 
stant  and  urgent  desire  of  her  father,  now 
minister  at  Deerfield  in  New  England." 

The  Governor  of  Canada  granted  the  envoy 
"  all  the  encouragement  I  could  imagine  for 


The  "Parson  Williams"  House     419 

her  to  go  home  ;  he  also  permitted  me  to  go 
to  her  at  the  fort.  Moreover,  he  said  that, 
with  all  his  heart  he  would  give  a  hundred 
crowns  out  of  his  own  pocket  if  that  she  might 
be  persuaded  to  go  to  her  native  country." 

The  Governor  was  the  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil, 
and  had  interested  himself  in  the  request  of 
the  Abenakis  mother.  He  was,  doubtless, 
weary  of  the  subject  and  anxious  to  avoid  pos 
sible  future  complications  and  importunities. 

With  a  glad  heart  the  emissary  hastened  to 
the  fort  of  Caghonowaga  (Caughnawaga)  es 
corted  by  one  of  the  king's  officers  and  two 
interpreters,  one  who  could  speak  French,  the 
other  an  Indian. 

Eunice  was  now  seventeen  and  the  wife  of 
an  Indian.  His  name  is  positively  stated  by 
one  historian  to  have  been  De  Rogers.  That 
would  bespeak  him  a  half-breed.  Others  call 
him  Amrusus,  "  which  name  is  now  believed  to 
be  an  Indian  corruption  of  Ambroise."  Here, 
again,  we  have  an  intimation  of  French  line 
age.  Eunice  was  rebaptized  by  a  Jesuit  priest 
as  "  Margaret." 

Her  husband  accompanied  and  remained 
with  her  throughout  the  interview  with  John 
Schuyler.  She  wore  the  dress  of  a  squaw 


420       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

and  bore  herself  with  sullen  reserve  which 
defied  all  efforts  to  break  it  down.  She  did 
not  understand  English  when  Colonel  Schuyler 
spoke  to  her  in  that  tongue,  and  was  obdur 
ately  dumb  to  all  questions  put  to  her  in 
French  and  in  the  Indian  dialect.  The  priest, 
in  whose  house  the  painful  interview  took 
place,  was  appealed  to  by  the  envoy,  and 
joined  his  efforts  to  the  Englishman's — "  but 
she  continued  impersuadable" 

"  I  promised,  upon  my  word  of  honor,  if  she  would 
go  only  to  see  her  father  I  would  convey  her  to  New 
England,  and  give  her  assurance  of  liberty  to  return 
if  she  pleased.  After  this,  my  earnest  request  and 
fair  offer  upon  long  solicitation,  two  Indian  words, 
translated  '  Maybe  not,'  were  all  we  could  get  from  her 
In  two  hours'  time." 

As  we  have  read  in  the  chapter  upon  THE 
SCHUYLER  HOUSE,  John — otherwise  Johannes 
—Schuyler,  had  "  great  influence  with  the 
Indians,"  acquired  by  many  years  of  warring, 
trading,  and  treating  with  them.  Although  a 
man  of  war  from  his  youth  up,  he  had  a  tender 
heart,  and  it  was  fully  enlisted  on  the  side 
of  the  sorrowing  father  and  the  expectant 
brothers  and  sister.  His  emotion  was  so  ap- 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     421 

parent  that  Eunice's  husband,  hitherto  a  quiet 
spectator  of  the  scene,  interposed  to  end  it : 

"  Seeing  that  I  was  so  much  concerned  about  her,  he 
replied  that  had  her  father  not  married  again,  she  would 
have  gone  to  see  him  long  ere  this,  but  gave  no  other 
reason,  and  the  time  growing  late  and  I  being  very 
sorrowful  that  I  could  not  prevail  upon  her,  I  took  her 
by  the  hand,  and  left  her  in  the  priest's  house." 

There  is  evidence  of  the  continued  interest 
of  Colonel  Schuyler  in  the  wayward  daughter 
in  the  account  written  by  a  granddaughter  of 
Rev.  Stephen  Williams  of  a  visit  made  by  her 
great-aunt  Eunice  to  Longmeadow  in  1 740. 
"The  affair,"  she  says,  "was  negotiated 
entirely  by  their  friends,  the  Schuylers." 
Her  brothers  Eleazar  and  Stephen,  with  her 
sister's  husband,  Rev.  Joseph  Meacham,  met 
Eunice  and  her  husband  in  Albany  and  had 
hard  work  to  induce  her  to  come  on  to  Lone- 

o 

meadow.  They  spent  several  days  with  their 
relatives  and  left  with  the  promise  of  another 
visit.  The  delayed  fulfilment  of  the  pledge 
is  chronicled  in  Rev.  Stephen  Williams's 
diary  of  June  and  July,  1761. 

"  June  30.  This  day  my  sister  Eunice,  her  husband, 
her  daughter  Katharine,  and  others,  came  hither  from 
Canada." 


422       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  Sister  Williams  of  Deerfield  "  (that  would 
be  the  wife  of  his  half-brother  Elijah,  who  now 
owned  the  homestead)  sent  over  an  interpreter 
in  advance  of  the  arrival ;  his  daughters  Eunice 
and  Martha  were  with  their  father  upon  "  ye 
joyfull,  sorrowfull  occasion,"  and  other  rela 
tives  and  friends  gathered  to  greet  the  exile 
and  to  entreat  her  to  remain  with  them.  She 
passed  one  Sunday  in  Deerfield  during  this 
visit,  and  was  coaxed  into  dressing  in  the 
English  fashion,  and  attending  service  in  her 
father's  old  church.  The  constraint  and  sense 
of  strangeness  of  her  new  costume  became 
intolerable  by  the  time  prayers,  hymns,  and 
sermon  were  over.  As  soon  as  she  was  back 
in  "Sister  Williams's"  house,  she  tore  off  the 
"vile  lendings,"  resumed  her  blanket  and  leg 
gings  and  never  laid  them  aside  again.  While 
she  was  with  Stephen  at  Longmeadow,  the 
Legislature  of  Massachusetts  offered  her  a 
grant  of  land  if  she  would  live  upon  it.  "  She 
positively  refused,"  says  her  grandniece,  "  on 
the  ground  that  it  would  endanger  her  soul." 

In  Stephen's  diary  for  July  loth,  we  have  : 

"  This  morning  my  poor  sister  and  company  left  us. 
I  think  I  have  used  ye  best  arguments  I  could  to  per 
suade  her  to  tarry  and  to  come  and  dwell  with  us.  But 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House    425 

at  present  they  have  been  ineffectual.  Yet  when  I  took 
my  leave  of  my  sister  and  her  daughter  in  the  parlour 
they  both  shed  tears  and  seemed  affected.  Oh  !  that 
God  wd.  touch  their  hearts  and  incline  them  to  turn 
to  their  friends  and  to  embrace  ye  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  !  " 

And  she,  with  a  heart  wrung  by  early  mem 
ories  and  yearning  for  companionship  with 
those  of  her  own  blood,  went  back  to  dwell  in 
the  wilds  of  Canada  lest  she  should  lose  her 
soul ! 

She  paid  two  other  visits  to  Massachusetts 
before  her  death  which  occurred  at  the  age  of 
ninety,  and  her  children  and  grandchildren 
made  repeated  pilgrimages  to  Deerfield  to 
keep  in  touch  with  their  kinspeople  there. 
The  fate  that  had  severed  her  and  her  fortunes 
so  widely  from  the  trim  respectability  of  New 
England  village-life  infused  other  and  yet 
more  romantic  elements  into  the  lives  of  her 
offspring.  Sarah,  her  eldest  daughter,  mar 
ried  the  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Chester,  whose 
name,  by  an  odd  coincidence,  was  Williams. 
The  young  Englishman  was  a  surgeon  on 
board  of  a  man-of-war  which  was  captured  by 
the  French  in  the  war  of  1755-60,  and  was 
taken  a  prisoner  to  Canada.  His  skill  as  a 


426      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

physician,  his  botanical  lore,  and  his  passion 
for  adventures  in  field  and  in  forest,  made 
him  popular  among  the  Indians.  In  one  of 
the  excursions  made  in  their  company  he 
visited  Caughnawaga  and  became  so  enamored 
of  the  beautiful  half-breed,  Sarah,  as  to  accede 
to  the  condition  upon  which  her  parents  gave 
consent  to  the  marriage,  viz.,  that  he  should 
live  in  Canada. 

Their  only  son,  Thomas  Williams,  married 
a  French  woman.  Among  the  children  of  this 
marriage  was  Eleazar  Williams,  born  about 
1 790,  whom  many  persist  to  this  day  in  be- 
living  to  have  been  the  lost  Louis  XVII  of 
France.  He  was  educated  in  "  the  States  " 
and  took  orders  in  the  Episcopal  Church, 
choosing  as  his  cure  of  souls  a  settlement 
of  Indians  at  Green  Bay,  Wisconsin.  His 
relative  and  biographer,  the  compiler  of  the 
Williams  Genealogy,  adds, 

"  He  married  Miss  Mary  Hobart  Jourdan,  a  distant 
relative  of  the  King  of  France " — (Louis  Philippe) 
"  from  whom  he  had  been  honored  with  several  splendid 
gifts  and  honors,  among  the  rest  a  golden  cross  and 
star.  He  has  a  son  John  who  is  now  (1846)  on  a  visit 
to  the  king  of  France  at  his  request." 

Those  who  met  and  knew  the  faithful  mis- 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     429 

sionary, — who  may  have  owed  his  French 
physiognomy  and  natural  grace  of  manner  to 
his  mother,  Thomas  Williams's  wife, — describe 
him  as  a  serious-eyed,  earnest  Christian  gentle 
man,  who  seldom  spoke  of  the  wild  tales  of  his 
royal  parentage  and  his  right  to  a  throne,  yet 
who  believed  thoroughly  and  honestly  in  them 
all.  This  conviction  and  the  expression  of  it 
on  the  part  of  such  a  man,  whose  parents  as 
suredly  could  have  rent  the  illusion  by  a  word, 
is  perhaps  the  most  astonishing  circumstance 
in  all  the  marvellous  tissue  of  tragedy,  adven 
ture,  achievement,  and  heroism  that  envelops 
and  dignifies  the  homely  dwelling  standing 
now  a  little  apart  from  the  shaded  village 
street. 

It  was  removed  about  eighty  feet  back  on 
its  own  grounds  when  the  Deerfield  Academy 
was  erected,  a  building  that  now  occupies  the 
site  of  the  parsonage.  The  Williams  house 
itself  has  suffered  many  changes,  yet  certain 
features  are  unaltered.  There  are  broad  win 
dow-seats  where  the  only  daughter  left  to  the 
stricken  father  may  have  sat  in  the  twilight 
with  her  Reverend  lover,  and  Eunice,  in  her 
Indian  dress,  perhaps  dreamed  on  moonlight 
evenings  of  the  mother  left  dead  on  the  bloody 


43°       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

snow,  and  tried  to  forgive  her  father  in  his 
grave  for  the  second  marriage  she  had  resented 
as  an  insult  to  the  memory  of  the  true  and 
tender  "  consort." 

As  we  stroll  under  the  elms  that  line  the 
dear,  dreamy  old  street,  I  am  told  that  the 
leading  man  to-day  in  the  Indian  settlement 
of  Caughnawaga,  is  Chief  Joseph  Williams,  a 
direct  descendant  of  Eunice,  and  a  far-off  kins 
man  of  the  sweet  and  stately  woman  whose 
summer-rest  is  taken  among  her  own  people. 
She  tells  me  of  her  visit  to  the  village  with  the 

o 

impossible  name,  some  years  back,  and  how 
the  Crusade  of  the  Bell  is  held  to  be  history, 
not  legend,  by  the  great-great-grandchildren  of 
those  who  burned  the  town  and  recovered  their 
rightful  property,  and  how  the  blood-bought 
trophy  still  hangs  in  the  belfry  of  the  Canadian 
church. 

A  monument  has  been  erected  lately  upon 
the  spot  where  Eunice  Williams  was  slain,  over 
on  the  other  side  of  Green  River,  and  in  the 
museum  is  the  old  nail-studded  door  with  the 
hole  hacked  in  it  through  which  Mrs.  Sheldon 

o 

was  shot. 

Deerfield  has  been  spoken  of  as  the  "  sleep- 


The  "  Parson  Williams"  House     431 

iest  town  in  all  New  England."  We  do  not 
grudge  her  a  century  or  two  of  repose  after  the 
unrest  of  her  infancy,  the  anguish  of  her 
youth. 


XVIII 

VARINA.     THE  HOME  OF  POCAHONTAS 

JOHN  SMITH,  captain,  knight,  and  ex 
plorer,  in  pushing  his  canoe  through  the 
tortuous  creeks  of  the  Chickahominy  swamp, 
fell  into  an  ambush  of 
three  hundred  Indians. 
After  a  desperate  defence 
he  was  taken  prisoner  by 
Opechancanough,and  car 
ried,  for  trial  for  killing 
two  aborigines,  before  the 
Emperor  Powhatan,  Ope- 
chancanough's  mightier 

JOHN  SMITH'S  COAT-OF-ARMS      .  1 

brother. 

At  each  stopping-place  in  the  journey  tow 
ard  the  imperial  residence  at  Werowocomoco 
— "  the  chief  place  of  council  "  —Smith  nar 
rates  with  grim  humor,  that  he  "  expected  to 
be  executed  at  some  one  of  the  fires  he  saw 

432 


Varina  433 

blazing  all  about  them  in  the  woods.  .  .  . 
So  fat  they  fed  mee  that  I  much  doubted  they 
intended  to  have  sacrificed  mee  to  a  superior 
power  they  worship." 

He  was  still  under  thirty  years  of  age,  well- 
built,  and  martial  in  carriage.  The  full  mus 
tache  outlined  a  firm  mouth  ;  his  mien  was 
frank,  his  eyes  were  fearless  and  pleasant. 
Stories  of  his  prowess  and  of  his  arts  of  pleas 
ing  had  preceded  him. 

"  Here "  (at  Werowocomoco)  "  two  hundred  grim 
courtiers  stood  wondering  at  him  as  he  had  beene  a 
monster  ;  till  Pcnvhatan  and  his  traine  had  put  them 
selves  in  their  greatest  braveries.  Before  a  fire,  upon  a 
seat  like  a  bedstead,  he  sat  covered  with  a  great  robe, 
made  of  Rarowcun "  (raccoon)  "  skinnes  and  all  the 
tayles  hanging  by.  On  either  hand  did  sit  a  young  wench 
of  sixteen  or  eighteen  yeares,  and  along  on  each  side  the 
house  two  rowes  of  men,  and  behind  them  as  many 
women,  with  all  their  heads  and  shoulders  painted  red, 
many  of  their  heads  bedecked  with  the  white  downe  of 
birds  ;  but  everyone  with  something  ;  and  a  great  chaine 
of  white  beads  about  their  necks. 

"At  his"  (Smith's)  "  entrance  before  the  King  all  the 
people  gave  a  great  shout.  The  Queene  of  Appamatuck 
was  appointed  to  bring  him  water  to  wash  his  hands, 
and  another  brought  him  a  bunch  of  feathers  instead  of 
a  Towell  to  dry  them.  Having  feasted  him  after  their 

best  barbarous  manner  they  could,  a  long  consultation 

28 


434       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

was  held,  but  the  conclusion  was,  two  great  stones  were 
brought  before  Powhatan,  then,  as  many  as  could,  layd 
hands  on  him,  dragged  him  to  them,  and  thereon  laid 
his  head,  and  being  ready  with  their  clubs  to  beate  out 
his  brains,  Pocahontas,  the  King's  dearest  daughter, 
when  no  entreaty  could  prevaile,  got  his  head  in  her 
arms,  and  laid  her  own  upon  his  to  save  him  from  death, 
whereat  the  Emperor  was  contented  he  should  live  to 
make  him  hatchets  and  her  bells,  beads,  and  copper. 
For  they  thought  him  as  well  of  all  occupations  as  them 
selves.  For  the  King  himselfe  will  make  his  own  robes, 
shooes,  bovves,  arrowes,  pots  ;  plant,  hunt,  or  doe  any 
thing  so  well  as  the  rest." 

"  When  no  entreaty  could  prevaile,"  implies 
a  prologue  almost  as  dramatic  as  the  act  itself. 
Powhatan  had  divers  wives,  twenty  sons,  and 
ten  daughters.  Whether  by  beauty  and 
sprightliness,  or  by  force  of  the  dauntless  spirit 
that  bespoke  her,  in  every  inch  of  her  slight 
body,  his  child  in  temper  and  in  will,  Pocahon 
tas  had  a  hold  upon  his  savage  nature  that  no 
other  creature  ever  gained.  In  a  captivity 
that  had  many  opportunities  of  familiar  dis 
course  with  those  who  kept  him,  the  knightly 
soldier  had  made  her  his  friend.  She  had 
pleaded  for  him  before  the  hour  set  for  the 
trial.  It  was  not  the  sudden  caprice  of  a 
spoiled  child  that  had  cast  her  between  the 


Varina  435 

club  and  the  head  embraced  in  her  arms. 
Still  less  was  it — as  a  legion  of  romanticists 
have  insinuated  or  asserted — a  transport  of 
self-devotion  of  like  strain  with  that  which,  in 
the  heart  of  a  Tartar  princess  had,  five  years 
before,  ameliorated  Smith's  slavery  in  "  the 
countrey  of  Tartaria."  The  Indian  girl  was 
but  twelve  years  old  when  she  thus  recklessly 
risked  her  life.  That  she  was  regarded  as  a 
child  by  her  grimly  indulgent  parent  is  patent 
from  the  union  of  Smith's  office  as  armorer  to 
his  majesty  with  that  of  trinket-maker  to  the 
little  princess. 

For  a  month — perhaps  six  weeks — Smith 
lived  in  constant  association  with  his  despotic 
host,  and  the  little  brunette  whom  he  was 
ordered  to  amuse.  The  influence  of  this  pe 
riod,  and  the  subsequent  intimacy  to  which  it 
led,  upon  her  character  and  career  can  hardly 
be  exaggerated.  She  had  inherited,  with  her 
father's  imperiousness,  the  intellect  that  made 
him  Emperor,  while  his  brothers  were  but 
kings,  and  Werowocomoco  the  place  to  which 
the  tribes  came  up  for  judgment.  The  sup 
posed  artificer  selected  to  fashion  tinkling  or 
naments  to  please  the  fancy  of  the  "salvage" 
maiden,  was  soldier,  traveller,  dramatist,  his- 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


torian,  and  diplomatist.  From  the  aborigines 
of  the  Virginia,  whose  interests  he  calls  "  my 
wife,  my  children,  my  hawks,  hounds,  my  cards, 
my  dice,  in  totall,  my  best  content,"  he  learned 
their  dialects,  social,  warlike,  and  religious  cus 
toms.  In  acquiring  her  mother-tongue,  he 
taught  his  to  Pocahontas. 

One  of  his  note-books  contains  a  glossary 
of  Indian  words  and  phrases,  with  this  super 
scription  :  "  Because  many  doe  desire  to  know 
the  manner  of  their"  (the  Indians)  "language, 
I  have  inserted  these  few  words."  The  long 
est  sentence  has,  for  a  sensitive  imagination,  a 
story  between  the  lines.  Being  translated,  it 
means,  "  Bid  Pocahontas  bring  hither  two 
little  baskets,  and  I  will  give  her  white  beads 
to  make  her  a  Chaine." 

The  touch  of  affectionate  playfulness  is 
exquisite  in  connection  with  the  circumstances 
under  which  it  is  likely  the  phrase  was  con 
structed.  If  he  were  in  love  with  his  benefac 
tress,  it  was  as  a  bearded  man  of  the  world, 
whose  trade  was  war,  might  love  a  winsome 
plaything.  It  is  far  more  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  she  drew  from  him  the  earliest 
aspirations  that  led  to  her  conversion  to  Chris 
tianity.  "  What,"  he  asks  of  his  fellow-adven- 


CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH, 


Varina  439 

turers  in  the  New  World,  "  can  a  man  with 
faith  in  religion  do  more  agreeable  to  God 
than  to  seek  to  convert  these  poor  savages  to 
Christ  and  humanity  ?  " 

He  was  the  model,  without  fear  and  without 
reproach,  upon  which  the  child,  intelligent 
beyond  her  years,  meeting  him  at  the  most  im 
pressionable  period  of  her  life,  fashioned  her 
ideas  of  his  people.  They  were  to  her  as 
gods.  Under  her  tutor,  heart,  mind,  and  am 
bition  took  on  a  new  complexion. 

There  is  no  other  reasonable  explanation  of 
the  loyalty  to  the  English  colonists  that  became 
a  passion  with  her,  earning  for  her  the  name  of 
''the  dear  and  blessed  Pocahontas." 

Smith's  uneasiness  in  his  honorable  captivity, 
and  his  efforts  to  return  to  the  settlement, 
should  exonerate  him  from  the  suspicion  of 
any  entanglement  of  the  affections  in  his  pres 
ent  abode.  Powhatan  offered  him  a  princi 
pality  if  he  would  cast  in  his  fortunes  with  the 
tribe.  Smith's  reply  was  to  entreat  a  safe 
conduct  to  Jamestown.  In  his  General  His 
tory,  he  recapitulates  what  he  had  written 
to  the  queen-consort  in  1616,  namely,  that 
Pocahontas  "  not  only  hazarded  the  beating 
out  of  her  owne  brains  to  save  mine,  but  so 


440      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

prevailed  with  her  father  that  I  was  safely 
conducted  to  Jamestown."  As  the  adopted 
son  of  the  mightiest  chieftain  upon  the  river 
that  had  formerly  borne  his  name,  Smith  could 
make  her  his  wife.  If  he  rejoined  his  English 
comrades,  the  chances  were  all  against  his 
wedding  an  illiterate  pagan.  She  was  shrewd, 
naturally  self-willed,  and  of  strong  affections. 
Yet,  through  her  intercession,  Smith  was 
returned  to  his  people. 

Starvation  was  staring  the  settlers  in  the 
face  when,  one  winter  day,  a  train  of  red  men 
emerged  from  the  forest  and  approached  the 
fort.  A  little  in  advance  of  the  "  Indian  file'' 
was  a  lithe  figure,  wrapped  in  a  robe  of  doe 
skin,  lined  and  edged  with  pigeon-down.  As 
a  king's  daughter,  she  wore  a  white  heron's 
feather  in  her  black  hair ;  wrists  and  ankles 
were  banded  with  coral.  A  queen  in  minia 
ture,  she  came  with  gifts  of  corn  and  game,  in 
quantities  that  quieted  the  rising  panic. 
"  Every  once  in  four  or  five  days,"  the  "  wild 
train"  thus  laden,  visited  the  settlement  "  un- 
till  the  peril  of  famine  was  past."  Under 
Smith's  presidency,  Jamestown  became  a 
village  of  nearly  five  hundred  inhabitants,  with 
twenty-four  cannon  and  abundant  store  of 


Varina  441 

muskets.  A  church  took  the  place  of  the  log- 
hut  in  which  divine  service  had  been  held  ; 
boys  and  girls  frolicked  in  the  street,  without 
fear  of  tomahawk  or  war-whoop.  A  welcome 
and  frequent  playfellow  of  these  was  "a  well- 
featured  young  girle,"  fleet  of  foot,  black- 
eyed  and  brown-skinned. 

"  Jamestown,  with  her  wild  train,  she  as  fre 
quently  visited  as  her  father's  habitation." 

The  wily  old  Emperor  did  not  scruple  to 
play  upon  the  president's  gratitude  to  his 
youthful  preserver,  when  it  suited  his  policy. 
Some  depredations  had  been  committed  upon 
the  settlers,  Powhatan  presuming  upon  the 
fact  stated  by  a  malcontent,  that  "  the  com 
mand  from  England  was  strait  not  to  offend 
them"-— the  "salvages."  Smith,  aroused  by 
Indian  insolence,  seized  the  evildoers,  brought 
them  to  Jamestown,  and  threatened  to  shoot 
them.  Whereupon  Powhatan  sent,  first,  am 
bassadors,  then  "his  dearest  daughter  Po- 
cahontas,  with  assurances  of  his  love  forever." 
In  full  understanding  of  the  value  of  such 
pledges,  Smith  delivered  the  prisoners  to  Po- 
cahontas,  "  for  whose  sake  only,  he  fayned  to 
save  their  lives."  Strachys  speaks  of  her  in 
connection  with  this  transaction  as  "  a  child  of 


442       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

tenne  yeares."  This  would  be  in  the  summer 
or  early  autumn  of  1608,  when  she  was  about 
thirteen. 

Later,  in  the  same  year,  Powhatan  was 
crowned  by  order  of  James  I.  Out  of  "  com- 
plemental  courtesy,"  the  emperor  of  "  Atta- 
nougeskomouch,  als  Virginia,"  submitted  to  a 
coronation  under  the  style  of  "  Powhatan  I.," 
and  became  a  nominal  vassal  of  the  English 
crown.  He  would  not,  however,  go  to  James 
town  to  receive  diadem  and  vestments. 

The  old  warrior  was  growing  surly  as  well 
as  "  sour."  He  would  be  put  through  the 
ceremony  at  his  own  chief  place  of  council,  or 
go  uncrowned. 

On  the  evening  preceding  the  coronation 
the  English  kindled  their  watch-fire  in  an  open 
field,  near  to  Werowocomoco,  and  Smith  was 
sitting  soberly  before  it  upon  a  mat,  when  such 
unearthly  and  "  hydeous  noise  and  shreeking" 
issued  from  the  woods  as  drove  the  men  to 
arms,  and  to  the  arrest  of  two  or  three  old  In 
dians  who  were  loitering  near,  with  the  inten 
tion  of  holding  them  as  hostages.  Forthwith 
there  glided  out  of  the  forest  the  familiar  and 
beloved  form  of  Pocahontas,  offering  herself 
as  surety  for  the  peaceable  designs  of  her 


Varina  443 

confederates — ''willing  him  to  kill  her  if  any 
hurt  was  intended." 

The  "  anticke  "  that  followed  was  a  "  Mas- 
carado  "  so  uncouth  that  we  are  glad  the  nar 
ration  does  not  intimate  her  active  participation 
therein,  albeit  it  is  spoken  of  as  an  entertain 
ment  contrived  by  "  Pocahontas  and  her 
women."  That  which  seemed  grotesque  and 
even  "  infernall  "  to  the  phlegmatic  English 
man  who  tells  the  tale,  was  unquestionably  a 
solemn  pageant  in  the  eyes  of  the  princess  and 
her  aids,  and  arranged  with  infinite  pains  to  do 
honor  to  the  guests. 

Whatever  may  have  been  Powhatan's  senti 
ments  as  to  the  pompous  farce  in  which  he 
bore  reluctant  part,  his  daughter  apparently 
anticipated  his  coronation  as  another  link  ally 
ing  hers  with  the  superior  race  beyond  the 
great  sea. 

In  reality,  the  ceremony  that  lowered  an 
emperor  to  the  rank  of  a  king  and  a  vassal 
was  a  burlesque  throughout.  Pocahontas, 
gazing  from  the  grinning  faces  of  the  white 
spectators  and  the  uncomprehending  stolidity 
of  her  countrymen  to  her  father's  lowering 
brow,  must  have  suffered  a  sharp  reaction  from 
the  light-hearted  hilarity  of  yesternight. 


444       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

What  the  Englishmen  themselves  marvelled 
at  as  her  "  extraordinary  affection  "  for  them, 
was  in  no  wise  weakened  by  the  rapid  change 
in  her  father's  attitude  toward  the  invaders. 
Within  three  months  he  invited  Smith  to  visit 
him,  and  when  he  appeared  at  Werowocomoco 
with  eighteen  attendants,  received  him  so  cav 
alierly  that  the  astute  soldier  felt  himself  to  be 
upon  ground  as  treacherous  as  the  ice  through 
which  he  had  broken  from  the  boats  to  the 
shore. 

"  Seeing  this  Salvage  but  trifle  the  time  to 
cut  his  throat,"  he  sent  word  to  the  men  left 
with  the  boat  to  land.  As  the  Indians  closed 
about  him,  "  with  his  pistoll,  sword,  and  target 
hee  made  such  a  passage  among  the  naked 
Devils  that  at  his  first  shoot "  they  fled  pre 
cipitately  in  all  directions. 

The  little  band  of  white  men  encamped 
upon  the  frozen  shore  and  were  preparing 
their  evening  meal,  when  a  visitor  announced 
herself. 

I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  borrow 
again,  and  liberally,  from  the  time-stained 
story  reprinted  from  the  London  edition  of 
1629. 

"  Pocahontas,  his"  (Powhatan's)  "  dearest  Jewell  and 


Varina  445 

daughter,  in  that  darke  night  came  through  the  irksome 
woods,  and  told  our  Captaine  great  cheare  should  be 
sent  us  by-and-by  ;  but  Powhatan,  and  all  the  power  he 
coulde  make,  would  after  come  to  kill  us  all,  if  they  that 
brought  it  could  not  kill  us  with  our  owne  weapons  when 
wee  were  at  supper.  Therefore,  if  we  would  live,  she 
wished  us  presently  to  be  gone.  Such  things  as  she  de 
lighted  in,  he  would  have  given  her  ;  but  with  the  teares 
running  downe  her  cheekes,  she  said  she  durst  not  be 
scene  to  have  any  ;  for  if  Powhatan  should  know  it,  she 
were  but  dead.  And  soe  she  ran  away  by  herselfe  as 
she  came." 

We  linger  over  the  picture  dashed  upon  the 
canvas  by  a  hand  untaught  in  artistic  effects, 
until  our  own  eyes  are  "  watered."  The  child 
—not  yet  fourteen  years  old — a  baby  in  sim 
plicity,  but  a  woman  in  depth  of  devotion  to 
her  friends  ;  brave  to  recklessness,  holding 
her  life  as  nothing  by  comparison  with  her 
loyalty,  but  breaking  into  childlike  weeping 
when  she  tried  to  speak  of  the  change  in  him 
whose  '  dearest  Jewell  "  she  had  been  ; — roman 
tic  invention  pales  by  the  side  of  this  ever-true 
relation  of  love  and  fidelity. 

All  came  to  pass  as  she  had  warned  Smith. 
His  coolness  and  courage  prevented  the  catas 
trophe  planned  by  the  cunning  chieftain  ;  he 
and  his  men  reached  Jamestown  in  safety,  and 


446       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

Our  Lady  of  the  James  appeared  no  more  in 
the  streets  or  houses  of  the  village  during  the 
space  of  two  years.  We  hear  of  no  other  in 
terview  between  her  and  the  hero  of  her  child 
ish  imaginings  until  the  meeting  between  them 
in  an  English  drawing-room  seven  years  later. 
Not  many  months  after  Smith's  visit  to 
Powhatan,  the  former  met  with  the  accident 
that  obliged  him  to  return  to  England  for  sur 
gical  aid.  A  contemporary  thus  refutes  the 
scandal  that  preceded  Smith  to  London,  to 
the  purport  that  he  "  would  fain  have  made 
himself  a  king  by  marrying  Pocahontas,  Pow- 
hatan's  daughter." 

"  Very  oft  she  came  to  our  fort  with  what  she  could 
get  for  Captain  Smith,  that  ever  loved  and  used  all  the 
country  well,  and  she  so  well  requited  it  that  when  her 
father  intended  to  have  surprised  him,  she  by  stealth,  in 
the  dark  night,  came  through  the  wild  woods  and  told 
him  of  it.  If  he  would,  he  might  have  married  her." 

There  were  reasons  many  and  stringent  for 
her  disappearance  from  the  theatre  of  colonial 
history. 

"  No  sooner  had  the  salvages  understood 
that  Smith  was  gone,  but  they  all  revolted  and 
did  spoil  and  murther  all  they  encountered." 

Ratcliffe,  Smith's  successor,  visited  Powha- 


Varina  447 

tan  with  "thirtie  others  as  careless  as  himself," 
and  was  killed  with  all  his  party  except  one 
man,  who  escaped,  and  a  boy,  whose  life 
Pocahontas  saved.  "  This  boy  lived  many 
years  after  by  her  means  among  the  Pata- 
womekes"  (Potomacs). 

Jamestown  was  rehabilitated  by  Lord  De 
la  Warr,  he  building  upon  the  foundations 
laid  by  Smith's  travail  of  soul  and  body.  De 
la  Warr  was  succeeded  by  Sir  Thomas  Dale— 
"  a  man  of  great  knowledge  in  divinity,  and 
of  good  conscience  in  all  things." 

The  "  Nonparella  of  Virginia"  during  these 
changes,  had  left  her  father's  house,  and  gone 
to  sojourn  with  friends  of  hers  in  the  Potomac 
tribe.  Coupling  the  circumstance  with  the 
adoption  of  the  lad  whose  life  she  had  saved 
by  the  same  friendly  people,  we  attach  much 
significance  to  the  remark  that  she  "  thought 
herself  unknowne  "  in  that  region.  She  was, 
apparently,  in  refuge,  and,  as  she  supposed, 
incognita.  The  secret  of  her  nocturnal  ex 
pedition  had  been  betrayed  to  her  father. 
That  he  wreaked  his  wrath  upon  her  until 
existence  with  him  became  insupportable  is 
wellnigh  certain.  She  had  found  comparative 
peace  in  an  asylum  in  the  wigwam  of  one 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


Japazaws,  "  an  old  acquaintance  of  Captain 
Smith's,  and  exceedingly  friendly  to  the 
English." 

Captain  Samuel  Argall,  a  semi-privateers- 
man,  was  sent  up  the  Potomac  for  corn  by  the 
Governor  of  Virginia,  and,  upon  the  principle 
of  natural  selection,  "  entered  into  a  great 
acquaintance  with  Japazaws."  Shortly  before 
Argall  left  Jamestown  the  Indians  made  a  raid 
upon  the  environs  of  the  fort,  carrying  off, 
not  only  "  swords,  peeces,  tooles,  &c.,"  but 
several  men.  In  the  course  of  a  friendly 
gossip  with  Japazaws,  Argall  learned  that  a 
daughter  of  the  truculent  emperor  —  Poca- 
hontas,  or  Matoax  by  name  —  was  the  guest 
of  the  Indian's  squaw. 

Negotiations  ensued,  in  which  Indian  prin- 
ples  of  loyalty  to  friends,  protection  of  the  help 
less,  and  hospitality  to  the  innocent  stranger 
within  his  lodge  were  weighed  against  a  burn 
ished  copper  kettle,  flashed  by  Argall  before 
the  gloating  eyes  of  the  noble  Potomac. 

Japazaws  went  home  and  beat  his  wife  until 
she  agreed  to  feign  an  intense  desire  to  go  on 
board  this  particular  English  vessel.  Her 
lord  consented  presently  to  let  her  visit  it 
provided  Pocahontas  would  go  with  her. 


Varina  449 

The  coarse  plot  was  coarsely  and  cruelly 
carried  out. 

Master  Hamor's  relation  of  "  the  surrender 
of  the  government  to  Sir  Thomas  Dale  who 
arrived  in  Virginia  the  tenth  of  May,  1611," 
goes  coolly,  and  in  fact,  zestfully,  into  the 
details  of  the  righteous  treachery,  the  while 
he  feigns  to  pity  the  victim  : 

"  And  thus  they  betrayed  the  poor,  innocent  Poca- 
hontas  aboard,  where  they  were  all  kindly  feasted  in 
the  Cabin.  Japazaws  treading  oft  on  the  Captain's  foot 
to  remember  he  had  done  his  part,  the  Captain,  when 
he  saw  his  time,  persuaded  Pocahontas  to  the  gun-room, 
faining  to  have  some  conference  with  Japazaws,  which 
was  only  that  she  should  not  perceive  he  was  in  any  way 
guilty  of  her  captivity.  So,  sending  for  her  again,  he 
told  her  before  her  friends  she  must  go  with  him,  and 
compound  peace  between  her  country  and  us,  before 
she  ever  should  see  Powhatan,  whereat  the  old  Jew  and 
his  wife  began  to  howl  and  to  cry  as  fast  as  Pocahontas, 
that  upon  the  Captain's  fair  persuasions,  by  degrees 
pacifying  herself,  and  Japazaws  and  his  wife,  with  the 
kettle  and  other  toys,  went  merrily  on  shore,  and  she 
to  Jamestown." 

Sir  Thomas  Dale's  message  to  Powhatan, 
that  "  his  daughter  Pocahontas  he  loved  so 
dearly  must  be  ransomed  with  "  the  white 
prisoners  and  stolen  property,  "  troubled  him 


45°       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

much,  because  he  loved  both  his  daughter 
and  our  commodities  well."  Nevertheless,  it 
was  three  months  before  he  vouchsafed  any 
reply  whatever,  or  took  any  notice  of  the 
humiliating  intelligence. 

"  Then,  by  the  persuasion  of  the  Council,  he  returned 
seven  of  our  men,  with  each  of  them  an  unservicable 
musket,  and  sent  us  word  that  when  we  would  deliver 
his  daughter  he  would  make  satisfaction  for  all  injuries 
done  us,  and  give  us  five  hundred  bushels  of  corn,  and 
forever  be  friends  with  us.  What  he  sent  were  received 
in  part  of  payment  and  returned  him  this  answer  ;  That 
his  daughter  should  be  well  used,  but  we  could  not  believe 
the  rest  of  our  arms  were  either  lost  or  stolen  from  him, 
and  therefore,  till  he  sent  them,  we  would  keep  his 
daughter. 

"  This  answer,  it  seemed,  much  displeased  him,  for  we 
heard  no  more  from  him  for  a  long  time  after." 

Powhatan  never  regained  the  ground  thus 
lost  in  his  daughter's  affections.  With  pride 
equal  to  his  own,  she  brooded  over  the  public 
insult  offered  her  by  his  silence  and  seeming 
indifference.  She  was  branded  as  an  outcast 
from  her  father's  heart  and  tribe.  But  for  the 
kindness  of  the  aliens  he  hated,  she  would  be 
homeless  and  friendless.  The  bruised  heart, 
still  palpitating  with  the  pain  of  her  Potomac 


Varina  45 1 

host's  treachery,  accounted  as  worthless  by  him 
who  had  given  her  being,  was  tremblingly 
susceptible  to  the  touch  of  sympathy.  The 
people  of  Jamestown  received  her  with  affec 
tionate  hospitality.  The  long-repressed  crav 
ing  for  refinement  and  knowledge  of  the  great, 
beautiful  world — the  echoes  from  which  had 
first  thrilled  her  untaught  soul  during  the 
golden  month  passed  in  her  forest-home  by 
the  superb  stranger  with  the  kind  eyes  and 
winning  smile — was  now  to  be  gratified.  She 
descried  in  her  present  environment  the  realiz 
ations  of  the  ambitions  awakened  by  Smith's 
talk  and  teachings,  and  by  the  conversations 
between  him  and  George  Percy  and  other 
compeers,  to  which  she  had  lent  rapt  atten 
tion.  Her  dream-world  had  become  the  ac 
tual  and  present. 

By  comparison  with  the  village  of  wigwams 
which  was  her  forest-home,  Sir  Thomas  Dale's 
"  new  towne  "  was  a  noble  city,  with  its  "  two 
rowes  of  houses  of  framed  timber,  some  of 
them  two  stories,  and  a  garret  higher,  three 
large  Store-houses  joined  together  in  length," 
and  the  "strong  impalement"  that  encom 
passed  all. 

"  This  He,  and  much  ground  about  it,  is  much 


452       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

inhabited,  "  the  anonymous  scribe  winds  up 
the  description  by  saying,  complacently. 

The  colonists  made  a  pet  of  the  lonely- 
hearted  hostage.  She  was  nearly  eighteen 
years  old,  with  soft,  wistful  eyes,  delicately 
arched  brows,  a  mouth  at  once  proud  and 
tender,  and  slender  hands  and  feet ;  not  tall, 
but  straight  as  a  birch-sapling,  and  carrying 
herself  with  a  sort  of  imperious  grace  that 
rebuked  familiarity.  Where  she  loved,  she 
was  docile  ;  what  Smith  alludes  to  as  her  "  so 
great  a  spirit,"  leaped  to  arms  when  there  was 
need  of  courage. 

She  went  willingly  enough  with  Sir  Thomas 
Dale,  the  next  spring,  when  he  sailed  up  the 
York  River  to  treat  with,  or  to  fight  Powhatan, 
.as  might  seem  best  upon  their  arrival  at  "  his 
chief e  habitation."  After  a  good  deal  of  tem 
porizing,  a  little  skirmishing,  and  some  rapine 
on  the  part  of  the  visitors,  the  worthy  baronet 
proposed  an  interview  between  the  emperor 
and  his  daughter.  Instead  of  coming  him 
self  to  the  rendezvous,  Powhatan  sent  two  of 
his  sons,  under  flag  of  truce.  The  young 
princes,  comely,  manly  fellows,  embraced  their 
sister  fondly,  rejoiced  in  her  health  and  good 
looks,  and  engaged  to  do  their  best  to  persuade 


Varina  453 

their  father  to  redeem  her.  At  the  mention  of 
his  name  she  demeaned  herself  with  a  hauteur 
it  is  a  pity  the  obstinate  old  heathen  was  not 
there  to  see.  In  bitterly  decisive  words  she  made 
answer  to  her  brothers'  soothing  assurances  : 

"If  my  father  had  loved  me  he  would  not 
value  me  less  than  old  swords,  pieces,  and  axes  ; 
wherefore  I  will  still  dwell  with  the  English 
men  who  do  love  me." 

The  weaning  was  complete.  To  her  brothers 
she  spoke  privately  of  one  Englishman  whose 
love  differed  in  quality  and  degree  from  the 
rest.  The  rumor  of  this  was  quickly  bruited 
at  Jamestown  and  in  Werowocomoco,  giving 
profound  satisfaction  in  both  places.  John 
Rolfe,  "  an  honest  gentleman  and  of  good 
behaviour,"  was  fairly  educated,  a  stanch 
churchman  of  a  most  missionary  spirit,  a  well- 
to-do  widower,  and  a  protege  of  Sir  Thomas 
Dale.  If,  after  perusing  the  open  letter  to  his 
patron,  announcing  his  disposition  and  inten 
tion  in  the  matter  of  this  alliance,  the  additional 
epithet  "a  pious  prig,"  do  not  escape  the 
reader,  it  will  be  because  fin  de  sicclc  taste 
prompts  a  stronger.  After  an  introduction 
resonant  with  pietistic  twang,  he  leans  labori 
ously  upon  the  pith  of  his  communication  : 


454       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  Let  therefore  this,  my  well-advised  protestations, 
which  here  I  make  before  God  and  my  own  conscience, 
be  a  sufficient  witness  at  the  dreadful  day  of  judgement, 
when  the  secrets  of  all  living  hearts  shall  be  opened,  to 
condemn  me  herein,  if  my  deepest  interest  and  purpose 
be  not  to  strive  with  all  my  powers  of  body  and  minde 
in  the  undertaking  of  so  great  a  matter  for  the  good  of 
this  plantation,  for  the  honor  of  our  countrie,  for  the 
glory  of  God,  for  my  own  salvation  and  for  the  conver 
ting  to  the  true  knowledge  of  God  and  Jesus  Christ,  an 
unbelieving  creature  ;  viz.:  Pokahontas.  To  whom  my 
hartie  and  best  thoughts  are,  and  have  a  longtime  bin  so 
intangled  and  inthralled  in  so  intricate  a  labyrinth  that 
I  was  ever  awearied  to  unwinde  myself  thereout. 

"  To  you,  therefore  (most  noble  sir),  the  patron  and 
father  of  us  in  this  countrie,  doe  I  utter  the  effects  of 
this  my  settled  and  long-continued  affection  (which  hath 
made  a  mighty  warre  in  my  meditations),  and  here  I  do 
truly  relate  to  what  issue  this  dangerous  combat  is  come 
untoe,  wherein  I  have  not  only  examined  but  thoroughly 
tried  and  pared  my  thoughts,  even  to  the  quicke,  before 
I  could  finde  any  fit,  wholesome,  and  apt  applications  to 
cure  so  dangerous  an  ulcer." 

He  probes  still  further  into  the 

"  grounds  and  principall  agitations  which  thus  provoke 
me  to  be  in  love  with  one  whose  education  has  been 
rude,  her  manners  barbarous,  her  generation  accursed, 
and  so  discrepant  in  all  nurtreture  from  myself  that 
oftentimes,  with  fear  and  trembling,  I  have  ended  my 
private  controversie  with  this  :  '  Surely  these  are 


Varina  455 

wicked  instigations  hatched  by  him  who  seeketh  and 
delighteth  in  man's  destruction.  .  .  .' 

"  Besides  the  many  passions  and  sufferings  which  I 
have  daily,  hourly — yea,  in  my  sleepe  endured,  even 
awaking  me  to  astonishment,  taxing  me  with  remissness 
and  carelessness,  refusing  and  neglecting  to  performe  the 
duties  of  a  good  Christian,  pulling  me  by  the  eare,  and 
crying  '  Why  dost  thou  not  indeavor  to  make  her  a 
Christian  ? ' 

"  And  if  this  be,  as  undoubtedly  this  is,  the  service 
Jesus  Christ  requireth  of  his  best  servant,  wo  unto  him 
that  hath  these  instruments  of  pietie  put  into  his  hands 
and  wilfully  despiseth  to  work  with  them.  Likewise, 
adding  hereunto  her  great  appearance  of  love  to  me,  her 
desire  to  be  taught  and  instructed  in  the  knowledge  of 
God,  her  capablenesse  of  understanding,  her  aptness  and 
willingness  to  receive  anie  good  impression,  and  also  the 
spiritual!,  besides  her  own  incitements  thereunto  stirring 
me  up.' 

"  What  shall  I  doe  ?  Shall  I  be  of  so  untoward  a  dis 
position  as  to  refuse  to  leade  the  blind  into  the  right 
way  ?  Shall  I  be  so  unnaturall  as  not  to  give  breade  to 
the  hungrie  ?  " 

To  this  end  had  the  brave,  passionate,  loyal 
dreamer  come  !  We  easily  trace  the  stages  of 
the  match-making.  Rolfe,  commonplace,  sanc 
timonious,  and  shrewd,  on  the  lookout  for  a 
second  wife  and  awake  to  the  advantages  of 
wedding  a  princess,  even  though  she  were  a 
savage  ;  the  unsophisticated  child  of  nature, 


456       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

with  a  head  full  of  overwrought  fancies,  ready 
to  believe  every  English  cavalier  a  demi-god  ; 
the  conscientious  governor,  keen  alike  for 
Christian  neophytes  and  for  a  respite  from 
wars  and  rumors  of  wars,  which  a  union  be 
tween  prominent  representatives  of  the  two 
races  would  bring  about — it  was  a  clever  sum 
in  the  "  rule  of  three  "  and  skilfully  worked 
out  that  winter  of  1612-13. 

So  they  took  her  back  to  Jamestown  and 
baptized  her  at  the  font  in  the  church  built  by 
Lord  de  la  Warr,  christening  her  "Rebecca." 
Under  this  name  they  wedded  her  to  John 
Rolfe,  one  April  day.  The  tower  still  stands 
in  which  hung  the  two  bells  that  rang  joyfully 
as  bride  and  groom  passed  through  the  narrow 
archway. 

The  marriage  cemented  a  lasting  peace  be 
tween  the  two  nations.  Powhatan,  true  to  his 
purpose  of  holding  no  personal  communication 
with  the  aliens,  never  visited  his  "Jewell," 
either  in  Jamestown  or  at  her  husband's  plan 
tation  of  Varina,  near  Dutch  Gap,  on  James 
River ;  but  he  sent  friendly  messages  from 
time  to  time,  to  "his  daughter  and  unknown 
sonne,"  and  would  know  "  how  they  lived, 
loved,  and  liked." 


TOWER  OF  OLD  CHURCH  AT  JAMESTOWN,   VIRGINIA,  IN  WHICH 
POCAHONTAS  WAS   MARRIED. 


Varina  459 

An  amusing  incident  connected  with  the 
visit  of  Sir  Thomas  Dale's  ambassador,  to 
whom  Powhatan  addressed  this  query,  shoots 
a  side-ray  upon  the  character  of  the  conscien 
tious  and  theological  governor  that  throws  the 
popular  portrait  of  him  out  of  drawing. 

When  Powhatan  had  for  answer  that 

"  his  brother,  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  was  well,  and  his  daugh 
ter  so  contented  she  would  not  live  again  with  him,  he 
laughed,  and  demanded  the  cause  of  my  coming.  I 
told  him  my  message  was  private  and  I  was  to  deliver  it 
only  to  himself  and  one  of  my  guides  that  was  acquainted 
with  it.  Instantly  he  commanded  all  out  of  the  house, 
but  only  his  two  Queens  that  always  sit  by  him,  and 
bade  me  speak  on." 

The  messenger  offered,  as  a  preamble  to 
the  motif  of  his  communication,  two  pieces  of 
copper  (household  utensils),  five  strings  of 
white  and  blue  beads,  five  wooden  combs,  ten 
fish-hooks,  a  pair  of  knives  and  the  promise  of 
a  grindstone  if  Powhatan  would  send  for  it, 
all  of  which  pleased  the  monarch  hugely. 

"  But  then  I  told  him  his  brother  Dale,  hearing  of  the 
fame  of  his  youngest  daughter,  desiring,  in  any  case,  he 
would  send  her  by  me  unto  him  in  testimony  of  his  love, 
as  well  as  for  that  he  intended  to  marry  her,  as  the  de 
sire  her  sister  had  to  see  her,  because  being  now  one 


460      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

people  and  he  desirous  for  ever  to  dwell  in  his  country, 
he  conceived  there  could  not  be  a  truer  assurance  of 
peace  and  friendship  than  in  such  a  natural  band  of  an 
united  union." 

Powhatan  broke  in  upon  this  astounding 
proposition  more  than  once,  but  the  English 
man  had  his  say  to  the  end.  "  Presently,  with 
much  gravity," — that  does  credit  to  his  breed 
ing  and  discounts  his  sense  of  humor, — the 
monarch  proceeded  to  say  that,  while  his 
brother's  pledges  of  good-will  "  were  not  so 
ample  as  formerly  he  had  received,"  he  ac 
cepted  them  "with  no  less  thanks."  As  for 
his  daughter,  he  "  had  sold  her  within  these 
few  days,  to  a  great  Werowance,  for  two 
bushels  of  Rawrenoke  "  (whatever  that  might 
be),"  three  days  journey  from  me." 

The  Englishman's  suggestion  that  the  amo 
rous  graybeard  would  give  him  three  times  the 
worth  of  the  mysterious  commodity  in  beads, 
copper,  hatchets,  etc.,  if  he  would  recall  the 
bride — "  the  rather  because  she  was  but  twelve 
years  old  "-  —was  a  futile  bait.  Powhatan  re 
minded  him  that  Sir  Thomas  Dale  had  a 
pledge  of  his  friendship  in  one  of  his  daughters. 
So  long  as  she  lived,  this  must  suffice.  Should 
she  die,  his  dear  brother  should  have  another 


Varina  461 

in  her  place,  but  he  "  held  it  not  a  brotherly 
part  to  bereave  him  of  his  two  children  at 
once. 

"  I  am  now  old,  and  would  gladly  end  my 
days  in  peace.  If  you  offer  me  injury,  my 
country  is  large  enough  to  go  from  you.  Thus 
much  I  hope  will  satisfy  my  brother.  Now, 
because  you  are  weary,  and  I  sleepy,  we  will 
thus  end," — wound  up  the  queer  interview. 

In  parting  with  the  envoy  he  made  him 
write  down  in  "  a  table-book  "  a  list  of  articles 
he  would  have  his  brother  Dale  send  to  him, 
not  forgetting  the  grindstone,  and  sent  two 
"  Bucks  skins  as  well  dressed  as  could  be  to 
his  sonne  and  daughter."  John  Rolfe's  name 
is  signed  to  an  attestation  of  the  truth  of  the 
narrative  to  this  letter  of  Master  Ralph 
Hamor.  The  interest  he  took  in  the  negotia 
tion  emphasizes  Hamor's  mention  of  Pocahon- 
tas's  desire  to  see  her  sister,  and  makes  us 
almost  sorry  for  the  failure  of  Sir  Thomas's 
embassy. 

Another  letter-writer,  under  date  of  "From 
Virginia,  Jitne  18,  1614"  subjoins  to  the 
above  : 

"  I  have  read  the  substance  of  this  relation  in  a  Letter 
written  by  Sir  Thomas  Dale,  another  by  Master  Whita- 


462       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ker,  and  a  third  by  Master  John  Rolfe  ;  how  carefull 
they  were  to  instruct  her  in  Christianity,  and  how  capa 
ble  and  desirous  shee  was  thereof  ;  after  she  had  been 
some  time  thus  tutored,  shee  never  had  desire  to  goe  to 
her  father,  nor  could  well  endure  the  society  of  her  own 
nation.  The  true  affection  she  constantly  bare  her  hus 
band  was  much,  and  the  strange  apparitions  violent  pas 
sions  he  endured  for  her  love,  as  he  deeply  protested, 
was  wonderfull,  and  she  openly  renounced  her  countrie's 
idolatery,  professed  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  was  bap 
tized." 

"  She  lives  civilly  and  lovingly  with  her  husband,  and, 
I  trust,  will  increase  in  goodness,  as  the  knowledge  of 
God  increaseth  in  her,"  writes  Sir  Thomas  Dale  in  1616. 
"  She  will  go  to  England  with  me,  and  were  it  but  the 
gaining  of  this  one  soul,  I  will  think  my  time,  toil,  and 
present  time  well  spent." 

With  this  transatlantic  voyage  begins  the 
last  chapter  in  the  mortal  life  of  the  little  mis 
tress  of  the  fair  plantation  of  Varina,  the 
home  to  which  her  Eno-lish  bridegroom  took 

o  o 

her.  Even  the  site  of  the  home  in  which  she 
learned  how  to  keep  house  after  the  English 
manner,  and  where  her  "  childe  "  was  born,  is 
unknown.  The  plantation  was  situated  a  few 
miles  below  Richmond  and  the  tobacco  culti 
vated  thereupon  had  a  fine  reputation.  Little 
else  is  known  of  it. 

The    banks   of    the    beautiful     river    from 


463 


POCAHONTAS. 


Varina  465 

Jamestown  to  Henricus  are  consecrate  to  her 
dear  memory. 

She,  her  husband,  and  her  little  son,  "  which 
she  loved  most  dearely,"  in  company  with  the 
conscientious  Governor,  landed  in  Plymouth, 
England,  June  12,  1616.  Six  months  later  we 
hear  of  her  as  the  object  of  much  and  admiring 
interest  in  fashionable  circles.  She  had  been 
presented  at  court,  and  under  the  unremitting 
tutelage  of  "  Master  John  Rolfe  and  his 
friends,"  had  learned  to  "  speake  such  English 
as  might  well  bee  understood,  and  was  become 
very  formall  and  civill,  after  our  English 
manner." 

Alas,  for  the  poor,  transplanted  wild  flower ! 

The  only  portrait  taken  of  her,  and  given  in 
this  chapter,  bears  the  date  of  that  year.  In 
some  such  garb  as  we  see  in  it  (barring  the 
tall  hat),  she  might  have  been  arrayed  when 
John  Smith,  now  Admiral  of  New  England, 
and  on  the  eve  of  a  third  voyage  to  America, 
called  to  see  her  at  Branford,  near  London, 
accompanied  by  several  friends.  Smith  ap 
proached  her  respectfully,  accosting  her  as 
"  Lady  Rebecca."  After  one  swift  look,  she 
turned  aside,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands, 
*'  without  anie  word,"  and,  it  would  seem, 


466       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

withdrew  from  his  immediate  presence.  As  is 
sadly  meet,  we  leave  her  old  friend  to  tell  the 
story. 

"  In  that  humour,  her  husband,  with  divers  others,  we 
all  left  her  two  or  three  houres,  repenting  myselfe  to 
have  writ  she  could  speake  English.  But  not  long  after, 
she  began  to  talke,  and  remembered  mee  well  what  cour 
tesies  she  had  done,  saying  ;  '  You  did  promise  Powhatan 
what  was  yours  should  bee  his,  and  he  the  like  to  you. 
You  called  him  "  Father,"  being  in  his  land  a  stranger, 
and  by  the  same  reason  soe  must  I  doe  you.' 

"  Which,  though  I  would  have  excused,  I  durst  not 
allow  of  that  title,  because  she  was  a  king's  daughter." 

Reading-  the  above,  we  call  to  mind  that 
foolish  King  James — forgetful  or  ignorant  of 
Powhatan's  twenty  sons  and  ten  daughters- 
had  expressed  a  fear  lest,  in  the  event  of 
Pocahontas's  succession  to  her  father's  throne, 
the  kingdom  of  Virginia  would  "  be  vested  in 
Mr.  Rolfe's  posterity."  It  behooved  Smith, 
in  recollection  of  the  malicious  reports  relative 
to  his  own  pretensions  in  that  direction,  to 
accentuate  the  distance  between  his  estate  and 
that  of  the  Lady  Rebecca. 

What  a  tumult  of  emotions  must  have  held 
the  young  hostess  dumb  during  the  long  inter 
val  so  awkward  to  husband  and  guests ' 


Varina  467 

Smith,  withheld  by  prudence  and  the  etiquette 
he  understood  better  than  she — despite  Mas 
ter  Rolfe's  drilling — from  approaching  her, 
longed  to  say  to  her  in  her  native  tongue 
what  he  would  not  have  others  hear.  He 
could,  he  felt,  have  won  her  from  her  seem 
ingly  inclement  "  humour,"  if  only  he  had  not 
boasted  of  her  proficiency  in  English.  And 
he  must  again  stab  the  faithful  heart  by  refus 
ing  this  token  of  his  remembrance  of  their 
former  intimacy.  We  can  imagine  that  he  lis 
tened,  embarrassed  with  down-dropt  lids,  as 
she  gained  in  steadfast  composure. 

"With  a  well-set  countenance,  she  said  :  'Were  you 
not  afraid  to  come  into  my  father's  Countrie,  and  caused 
feare  in  him  and  all  his  people  (but  me)  and  feare  you 
here  I  should  call  you  "father?"'  (i.e.,  here  you  are 
afraid  to  have  me  call  you  father.)  *  I  tell  you,  then, 
I  will,  and  you  shall  call  me  childe,  and  so  I  will  bee 
forever  and  ever  your  Countrieman.  They  did  tell  us 
alwaies  you  were  dead,  and  I  knew  no  other  till  I  came 
to  Plimoth  ;  yet  Powhatan  did  command  Vitamatomak- 
kin  '  (one  of  Powhatan's  council,  who  accompanied  her 
to  England)  '  to  see  you,  and  know  the  truth — because 
your  Countriemen  will  lie  much  !  ' ' 

The  sigh  of  disillusion  is  in  every  sentence  ; 
the  last  is  a  sharp  cry  of  pain.  Who  had 


468       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

deceived  her?  and  why?  Had  Rolfe's  "  solic 
itude  and  passion  "  and  the  proselyting  diplo 
macy  of  his  lord  and  patron,  conspired  to  get 
her  ideal  Englishman  off  the  stage  of  her 
imagination  that  the  widower  might  have  a 
clear  field  ?  Conjecture  cannot  but  be  busy 
here — and,  after  all,  confess  itself  conjecture 
still, 

There  is  little  more  to  tell.  "  Formall  and 
civill "  in  outward  seeming,  she  was  at  heart 
homesick.  The  winter  tried  her  semi-tropical 
constitution  severely ;  she  fell  ill  with  rapid 
consumption  ;  preparations  were  hastily  made 
for  her  return  to  Virginia — somewhat  oddly, 
in  Captain  Argall's  vessel.  On  the  day  before 
the  good  ship  George  was  to  sail,  the  Lady 
Rebecca  died  suddenly. 

"  It  pleased  God  at  Gravesend  to  take  this 
young  lady  to  his  mercie,  where  shee  made 
not  more  sorrow  for  her  unexpected  death 
than  joy  to  the  beholders  to  heare  and  see  her 
make  so  religious  and  godly  an  end." 

Thus  the  chapter,  signed,  "Samuel  Argall, 
John  Rolfe" 

Tradition  has  it  that  she  died  sitting  in  an 
easy-chair,  by  an  open  window,  her  eyes  fixed 
wistfully  upon  the  western  ocean. 


Varina  469 

"  Her  little  child,  Thomas  Rolfe,  was  left  at 
Plimouth,  with  Sir  Lewis  Stukly,  that  desired 
the  keeping  of  it." 

She  was  but  twenty-two  years  old.  Trav 
elled  and  erudite  Purchas  writes  of  her  last 
days  : 

"  She  did  not  only  accustom  herself  to  civilitie,  but 
still  carried  herself  as  the  daughter  of  a  King,  and  was, 
according  respected,  not  only  by  the  Company  which 
allowed  provision  for  herself  and  son  ;  but  of  divers 
particular  persons  of  honor  in  their  hopeful  zeal  for  her 
to  advance  Christianity.  I  was  present  when  my  honor 
able  and  reverend  patron,  the  Lord  Bishop  of  London, 
Dr.  King,  entertained  her  with  festival,  and  state  and 
pomp,  beyond  what  I  have  seen  in  his  great  hospitalitie 
afforded  to  other  ladies.  At  her  return  towards  Vir 
ginia,  she  came  to  Gravesend  to  her  end  and  grave." 

Hon.  William  Wirt  Henry,  whose  Life  and 
Letters  of  Patrick  Henry  rank  him  among  the 
most  accomplished  historiographers  of  our 
country,  has  paid  a  more  eloquent  tribute  to 
Our  Lady  of  the  James  : 

".  .  .  Pocahontas,  who,  born  the  daughter  of  a 
savage  king,  was  endowed  with  all  the  graces  which 
become  a  Christian  princess  ;  who  was  the  first  of  her 
people  to  embrace  Christianity,  and  to  unite  in  marriage 
with  the  English  race  ;  who,  like  a  guardian  angel, 


4/o      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

watched  over  and  preserved  the  infant  colony  which  has 
developed  into  a  great  people,  among  whom  her  own 
descendants  have  ever  been  conspicuous  for  true  nobil 
ity  ;  and  whose  name  will  be  honored  while  this  great 
people  occupy  the  land  upon  which  she  so  signally 
aided  in  establishing  them." 


GRAVE  OF  POWHATAN  ON  JAMES  RIVER. 


m 


XIX 

JAMESTOWN    AND  WILLIAMSBURG 

IN  the  by-gone  time  in  which  the  tide  of 
Southern  travel  flowed  up  the  Potomac 
River,  the  custom  prevailed  of  tolling  the 
bell  as  each  steamer  passed  Mount  Yernon. 
At  the  sound  the  passengers  gathered  upon 
the  forward  deck  to  gaze  with  bared  heads 
upon  the  enclosure  in  which  are  the  ashes  of 
Washington.  Sadder  and  not  less  reverent 
might  be  the  toll  with  which  river-craft  should 
announce  the  approach  to  the  ruined  tower 
upon  a  low  headland  of  the  James. 

Here  on  May  13,  1607,  was  set  tne  ^rst 
rootlet  of  English  dominion  in  the  vast  Vir 
ginia  plantation  that  was  to  outlive  pestilence 
and  famine  and  savage  violence.  The  bounds 
of  what  an  old  writer  calls  a  "  mighty  empire  " 
are  thus  defined  : 

471 


472       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  On  the  east  side  is  the  ocean  ;  on  the  south 
lieth  Florida  ;  on  the  north  Nova  Francia " 
(Canada)  ;  "as  for  the  west,  the  limits  thereof 
are  unknown." 

De  la  Warr  found  upon  the  marshy  penin 
sula,  in  1610,  a  church  twenty-four  feet  broad 
by  sixty  long.  The  site  was  the  same  as  that 
occupied  by  "  the  old  rotten  tent "  under 
which  the  first  Protestant  service  in  America 
was  held.  During  his  administration  the  sanc 
tuary  was  decorated  on  Sunday  with  flowers 
and  evergreens,  and  opened  for  daily  afternoon 
service  during  the  week.  There  were  a  bap 
tismal  font,  a  tall  pulpit,  a  chancel  of  red 
cedar,  and  in  the  tower  two  bells.  These 
rang  a  joyous  peal  in  the  April  of  1613,  when 
John  Rolfe  and  Pocahontas  knelt  in  the  aisle 
for  a  nuptial  benediction. 

The  tower  roofing  the  vestibule  stands  still. 
The  mortar  is  as  hard  as  stone,  and  the  bricks 
are  further  bound  together  by  ivy  stems  and 
roots.  The  arched  doorway  is  that  through 
which  "  the  Lady  Rebecca  "  and  her  pale-face 
bridegroom  passed  that  day,  arm  in  arm. 
Vandal  hammer  and  pick  have  dug  holes  in 
the  sides.  The  church,  flanked  by  the  tower, 
has  crumbled  to  the  foundations ;  in  the 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     473 

crowded  graveyard  behind  it  ruthless  tourists 
have  not  left  one  stone  upon  another.  Fennel 
brushes  our  shoulders,  and  brambles  entangle 
our  feet  as  we  explore  the  waste  grounds. 
A  quarter-mile  away  is  a  government  building 
erected  by  Sir  William  Berkeley,  and  after 
ward  and  for  many  years  the  homestead  of  the 
Jaquelins  and  Amblers.1  The  silent  decrepi 
tude  of  neglected  old  age  broods  over  the 
landscape  ;  the  tawny  river  slowly  and  surely 
licks  away  the  clayey  banks. 

The  place  is  haunted.  In  the  languorous 
calm  of  the  spring-like  weather  we  sit  upon  the 
broken  wall  in  the  shadow  of  the  ivy-bound 
tower,  the  dead  of  six  generations  under  our 
feet,  and  dream.  Now  and  then  we  talk  softly 
of  what  has  been  here,  and  of  those  who  people 
our  dream-world. 

John  Smith,  the  conqueror  of  kings,  walked 
these  shores  and  took  counsel  with  brave, 
loyal  George  Percy.  Hereabouts  he  welcomed 
Pocahontas  and  her  train  of  forest  maidens, 
and  withstood  to  their  teeth  Wingfield  and 
Ratcliffe  and  Archer.  Here  Sir  Thomas  Dale 
negotiated  the  marriage  of  Powhatan's  daugh- 

1  Since    this    chapter    was  written  the  Ambler   House   has   been 
destroyed  by  fire. 


474       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

ter  with  worthy  Master  John  Rolfe,  after  the 
Governor  had  quelled  by  Scripture  and  diplo 
macy  the  "  mighty  war  in  the  meditations  " 
of  the  grave  lover  touching  the  lawfulness  of 
wedding  a  "  strange  woman  "  who  came  of  a 
"generation  accursed."  In  the  chancel,  the 
exact  location  of  which  we  take  pains  to  iden 
tify,  the  girl-convert  to  Christianity  received 
the  water  of  baptism  and  her  new  name. 
About  this  spot  were  dug  the  ditches  of  the 
rude  fortifications  behind  which  Sir  William 
Berkeley  defied  Bacon,  the  miasmatic  moats 
from  which  the  fiery  young  rebel  drew  the 
fever  germs  that  ended  his  clays  shortly  after 
he  had  laid  Jamestown  in  ashes.  Over  there, 
where  the  tangle  of  briar  and  weed  is  thickest, 
was  consigned  to  rest  the  body  of  sweet  Lady 
Frances  Berkeley,  who  sickened  and  died  at 
Green  Spring  after  she  had  seen  her  husband 
sail  for  England  ;  had  seen,  also,  the  glare  of 
the  bonfires  and  heard  the  salvoes  of  artillery 
with  which  the  colonists  rejoiced  at  the  de 
parture  of  one  whom  they  execrated  as  a  bloody 
tyrant.  A  fragment  of  her  tombstone  is  in 
the  drawing-room  of  the  isolated  dwelling  to 
our  right,  taken  in  by  a  pitying  stranger  to  pre 
serve  it  from  the  sacrilegious  hammer  aforesaid. 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     475 

Every  foot  of  soil  has  been  soaked  in  blood 
since  Smith  and  his  colony  took  possession  of 
the  goodly  land  in  the  name  of  God  and  King 
James.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  the  level 
tract  is  enwrapped  with  historic  and  romantic 
associations,  as  it  will  to-night  be  veiled  by 
clinging;  mists. 

o       o 

By  the  road  along  which  Bacon  spurred  in 
hot  haste  to  take,  at  "  the  Middle  Plantation," 
the  oath  to  oppose  his  Majesty's  Governor 
and  Representative,  we  are  driven  to  the 
scene  of  that  stormy  episode  in  the  tragedy 
of  Nathaniel  Bacon's  rebellion.  A  long,  crazy 
bridge  crosses  the  creek  that  has  converted  the 
peninsula  into  an  island.  Marsh-lands,  drear 
ily  depressing,  border  the  highway  until  we 
enter  the  forest.  The  bed  of  the  winding 
road  is  sometimes  of  red,  sometimes  of  white 
clay.  Overhead  and  far  away— 

"  the  buzzard  sails  on 
And  comes  and  is  gone, 
Stately  and  still,  like  a  ship  at  sea." 

The  spell  of  pensive  silence  is  over  the 
whole  country.  We  pass  few  houses,  and 
meet  but  one  vehicle — a  wagon,  in  which  a 
party  of  hunters  is  going  river-ward.  A  slain 


4/6      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

deer  is  huddled  in  the  back  of  the  vehicle. 
Two  tired  dogs  trot  after  it,  with  lolling 
tongues  and  muddy  feet. 

As  we  near  the  ancient  capital  of  Virginia, 
no  stir  of  city  life  comes  out  to  greet  us. 
Governor  Francis  Nicholson  removed  the 
seat  of  government  from  Jamestown  to  the 
flourishing  Middle  Plantation  in  the  "  boom  " 
that  followed  the  accession  of  William  and 
Mary.  In  paroxysmal  loyalty,  he  laid  out 
the  future  metropolis  monogrammatically,  de 
signing  a  perpetual  testimony  to  the  wedded 
sovereigns  and  his  own  ingenuity.  One 
straight  street,  a  measured  mile  in  length, 
was  the  spinal  column  of  the  plan.  It  still 
bears  the  name  he  gave  it,  of  the  boy  Duke 
of  Gloucester,  the  heir-presumptive  to  the 
throne,  then  filled  by  his  childless  aunt  and 
uncle-in-law.  Diverging  thoroughfares  were 
to  form,  on  one  side,  a  capital  W  ;  upon  the 
other,  an  M.  The  street  had  one  terminus  in 
William  and  Mary  College,  the  second  uni 
versity  built  in  the  New  World.  Harvard 
is  her  senior.  The  Bishop  of  London  was 
the  first  Chancellor.  Sir  Christopher  Wren 
drew  the  plan  of  the  original  edifice  (burned 
in  1705).  The  Reverend  James  Blair,  the 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     477 

only  man  in  Virginia  who  was  not  intimidated 
by  the  eccentric  and  truculent  Governor,  was 
the  first  president. 

We  alight  at  the  gate  by  which  the  campus 
debouches  into  Duke  of  Gloucester  Street. 
To  the  right  is  the  President's  house.  The 
bricks,  alternately  gray  and  dull-red,  like  a 
checker-board,  were  brought  from  England 
two  hundred  years  ago.  The  venerable  dwell 
ing  is  occupied  now,  and  the  front  doors  of 
the  ancient  and  honorable  halls  of  learning 
stand  hospitably  open.  For  almost  a  score 
of  years  after  the  war  there  were  neither  pro 
fessors  nor  students  within  the  hoary  walls. 
On  five  mornings  of  each  week,  in  term-time, 
the  President,  whose  home  was  a  little  way 
out  of  town,  unlocked  the  door  of  the  college, 
rang  the  bell  and  read  prayers  in  the  chapel, 
preserving  by  this  form  the  charter  of  the 
institution.  Imagination  can  conjure  up  no 
more  dramatic  and  pathetic  picture  than  that 
of  the  old  man — a  war-scarred  veteran  of  the 
civil  conflict  —  plodding  through  the  daily 
routine  from  month  to  month,  and  year  to 
year.  What  a  company  of  august  shades 
filled  the  seats  as  collect  and  psalm  were  said 
to  seemingly  empty  space  !  Twenty  members 


478      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

of  Congress,  seventeen  state  Governors,  two 
Attorney-Generals,  twelve  college  professors, 
four  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence,  one  Chief-Justice,  four  cabinet  officers 
and  three  Presidents  of  the  United  States- 
were  graduates  of  "  old  William  and  Mary," 
besides  eminent  soldiers,  men  of  letters,  and 
reverend  divines  whose  names  star  the  pages 
of  Colonial  and  Commonwealth  history. 
Within  the  past  fifteen  years  new  shoots  have 
sprung  up  from  the  venerable  root.  By  the 
scent  of  water  in  the  guise  of  a  legislative 
appropriation,  the  noble  old  trunk  has  re 
vived.  The  faculty  is  no  longer  represented 
by  one  white-haired  man,  nor  are  his  auditors 
bodiless. 

But  we  have  to  do  now  with  the  shades,  as 
real  to  our  apprehension  and  more  interest 
ing  than  the  flesh  and  blood  of  to-day. 

Opposite  the  President's  house  is  a  building 
of  like  proportions  and  architecture,  known  in 
those  elder  times  as  the  Brafferton  School. 
Sir  Robert  Boyle,  the  bosom  friend  of  William 
Evelyn  Byrd,  of  Westover,  built  and  endowed 
it  as  an  Indian  seminary — a  modest  antitype 
of  Hampton.  Midway  between  these  houses 
is  the  statue  of  Norborne  Berkeley  (Lord 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     479 

Botetourt),  the  best-beloved  of  the  royal  Gov 
ernors.  It  is  of  Italian  marble,  and  was 
erected  in  1771.  "  America,  behold  your 
friend  ! "  exhorts  one  panel  of  the  pedestal. 
Graceless  boys  and  marauding  military,  alike 
regardless  of  the  admonition,  have  mutilated 
what  was  really  a  noble  work  of  art.  The 
discolored  features  express,  if  anything,  mild 
surprise,  piteous  in  the  circumstances,  and  the 
head  has  been  rejoined  awry  to  the  neck,  but 
there  are  remains  of  dignity  in  figure  and 
attitude  that  make  this  solitary  ornament  of 
the  college  grounds  congruous  with  the 
place.  The  solid  silver  coffin-plate,  with  his 
name  and  coronet  engraved  upon  it,  was  stolen 
from  the  crypt  under  the  college  library  dur 
ing  the  civil  war,  and  after  its  conclusion  was 
returned  anonymously  to  Williamsburg. 

The  old  Capitol  was  the  other  terminus  of 
Duke  of  Gloucester  Street.  A  few  years  ago 
the  ruins  were  purchased  by  a  corporation 
that  pried  out  the  very  foundations,  and  bore 
them  off  to  Newport  News  to  be  worked  into 
commercial  buildings.  The  straight,  wide 
thoroughfare  presented  a  gay  pageant  in  the 
days  of  Botetourt,  Fauquier,  Dinwiddie,  and 
Spotswoode — 


480       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

"  an  animated  spectacle  of  coaches  and  four,  contain 
ing  the  '  nabobs '  and  their  dames  ;  of  maidens  in  silk 
and  lace,  with  high-heeled  shoes  and  clocked  stockings  ; 
of  youths  passing  on  spirited  horses — and  all  these 
people  are  engaged  in  attending  the  assemblies  at  the 
palace,  in  dancing  at  the  Apollo  "  (in  the  famous  Raleigh 
tavern,  part  of  which  is  still  standing)  "  in  snatching  the 
pleasure  of  the  moment,  and  enjoying  life  under  a 
regime  which  seems  made  for  enjoyment." 

The  wings  of  the  palace  remained  until 
blown  down  by  the  blasts  ot  the  civil  war.  The 
site  is  occupied  by  a  schoolhouse.  From  the 
cellar  runs  a  subterranean  gallery  150  yards  in 
length,  opening  into  a  funnel-shaped  pit  of 
substantial  masonry.  On  each  side  of  this  is  a 
walled  chamber,  capable  of  containing  perhaps 
a  dozen  people.  In  the  early  spring-time  nar 
cissuses,  jonquils,  and  crocuses  fringe  the 
mouth  of  the  chasm.  A  clump  of  thorn-trees 
shades  it.  In  the  age  of  Indian  massacres, 
and  rebellions  many  against  powers  that  were 
to-day  and  might  not  be  to-morrow,  the  engi 
neering  and  toil  that  contrived  the  exit  from 
the  official  mansion  were  not  idly  bestowed. 

The  octagon  powder  magazine  built  in  1716, 
by  the  ablest  of  Colonial  Governors,  Alexander 
Spotswoode,  recalls  him  less  vividly  than  it 
awakens  associations  of  the  last  and  worst  of 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     481 

the  line  of  royal  lieutenants.     In  the  dim  dawn 
of    April  20,    17/5,   a  party  of    marines    stole 


'OLD  POWDER-HORN. ' 


across  the  palace  green  and  Gloucester  Street 
to  the  magazine,  and  before  the  Williamsbur- 
gers  were  astir,  removed  the  ammunition  to  a 


482       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

man-of-war  lying  in  the  offing.  Two  months 
later,  Dunmore  having  been  forced  to  surren 
der  the  keys  of  the  "  Old  Powder  Horn," 
some  men  entered  and  were  wounded  by  a 
spring-gun  tied  to  the  door.  Powder  barrels 
were  found  secreted  under  the  floor,  and  the 
tempest  of  popular  indignation  at  the  discovery 
of  the  infernal  plot,  drove  the  Governor  from 
Virginia  and  from  America. 

Upon  the  steps  of  the  Capitol  on  the  day  of 
the  adjournment  of  the  House  of  Burgesses  that 
same  year,  three  men  lingered  for  a  few  part 
ing  words.  The  war-cloud  was  big  upon  the 
horizon.  The  vice-recral  chariot  and  six  cream- 

o 

colored  horses  would  never  again  flash  along 
the  long  straight  avenue  ;  there  would  be  no 
more  palace  balls  ;  Thomas  Jefferson,  sandy- 
haired  and  awkward,  had  danced  for  the  last 
time,  "with  Belinda  at  the  Apollo."  The 
glitter  and  glamour  of  the  court  had  passed 
forever  from  the  lowland  town.  Henry's  war- 
cry,  "Liberty  or  Death!"  had  been  echoed 
by  the  "shot  heard  'round  the  world."  Wash 
ington,  as  Commander-in-chief  of  Colonial 
forces,  was  in  Boston.  Richard  Henry  Lee, 
the  most  majestic  of  the  three  figures  fancy 
poses  for  us  upon  the  Capitol  steps,  wrote 
silently  upon  a  pillar  of  the  portico  : 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     483 

"  When  shall  we  three  meet  again  ? 
In  thunder,  lightning,  and  in  rain  ? 
When  the  hurly-burly  's  done, 
When  the  battle  's  lost  and  won." 

In  1779  the  seat  of  government  was  re 
moved  to  the  comparatively  insignificant 
village  of  Richmond,  higher  up  the  river. 
Williamsburg  was  too  accessible  to  British 
cruisers,  and  too  remote  from  Washington's 
lines.  The  measure  stamped  "  Ichabod"  upon 
the  once  haughty  little  capital.  Dry-rot, 
stealthy  and  fatal,  settled  upon  her  pleasant 
places. 

The  ghosts  are  faithful  to  it.  Each  house 
has  its  history,  or  yet  more  interesting  tra 
dition. 

In  the  drawing-room  of  Dr.  J.  D.  Moncure 
(the  able  Superintendent  of  the  Eastern  Lun 
atic  Asylum,  situated  in  Williamsburg)  hangs 
the  portrait  of  Mary  Gary,  renowned  for 
beauty  and  belleship  in  a  family  where  beauty 
is  hereditary  and  pronounced.  Her  sister 
Sally  became  the  wife  of  George  William 
Fairfax,  the  near  neighbor  and  intimate  friend 
of  George  Washington.  The  oft-repeated 
tale  that  "  Sally "  Gary  was  the  first  love  of 
the  Father  of  his  Country  is  so  effectually  re 
futed  by  a  document  courteously  furnished  to 


Some  Colonial  Homesteads 


me  by  her  great-grandson,  Dr.  Moncure,  that 
I  naturally  prefer  his  story  to  my  own  : 

"  George  William  Fairfax,  of  Belvoir  (Virginia),  and 
Poulston,  Yorkshire,  England  —  married,  December  17, 
1748,  Sarah,  second  daughter  of  Colonel  Wilson  Gary, 
of  Celeys,  near  Hampton,  on  James  River.  George 
Fairfax  was  the  companion  of  Washington  on  his  sur 
veying  tour  for  Lord  Fairfax.  Washington  first  met 
Mrs.  Fairfax  at  Belvoir,  near  Mount  Vernon,  when  she 
was  brought  home  as  the  bride  of  George  William  Fair 
fax.  Miss  Mary  Gary  accompanied  her  sister  Sarah  to 
Belvoir,  and  there  met  George  Washington.  She  was 
then  but  fourteen  years  of  age.  Washington  was  only 
sixteen.  .  .  .  He  had  never  visited  the  low  country 
near  Williamsburg  prior  to  this,  and  therefore  could  not 
have  met  Sarah  Gary  until  her  marriage.  It  is  said  that 
he  fell  in  love  at  sight  with  Mary  Gary,  and  went  so  far, 
-on  his  first  visit  to  Williamsburg,  as  to  ask  Colonel  Gary 
;for  the  hand  of  his  daughter." 

The  big,  raw-boned  lad  found  scant  favor 
in  the  eyes  of  the  patrician  planter.  He  was 
dismissed  in  terms  so  curt  that  we  must  bear 
in  mind  paternal  pride  and  other  extenuating 
circumstances  if  we  would  keep  intact  our  idea 
of  a  fine  old  Virginia  gentleman. 

"  If  that  is  your  business  here,  sir,  I  wish 
you  to  leave  the  house.  My  daughter''1-—  -the 
swelling  emphasis  rumbles  down  the  corridor 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     485 

of  years — "  has  been  accustomed  to  ride  in  her 
own  coach." 

Tradition  asserts  that  the  chagrined  suitor 
took  the  choleric  parent  at  his  word,  and  that 
the  next  time  he  looked  upon  the  face  of 
his  early  love  was  when  he  passed  through 
Williamsburg  on  his  return  from  Yorktown 
after  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis.  As  we 
stroll  down  the  spinal  street,  the  window  in 
the  old  Gary  house  is  pointed  out  at  which 
Mary  Gary — now  Mrs.  Edward  Ambler — 
stood  to  watch  the  parade.  Washington  looked 
up,  recognized  her,  and  waved  a  smiling  salute 
with  his  sword,  whereat  the  lady  fainted.  A 
becoming  and  not  difficult  feat  at  an  era  when 
to  swoon  opportunely  and  gracefully  was  a 
branch  of  feminine  education. 

The  incident  rounds  off  the  romance  artisti 
cally,  and  I  am  self-convicted  of  ungracious 
injury  to  the  unities  in  introducing,  at  the  de 
mand  of  justice,  rebutting  testimony  in  a  note 
from  another  descendant  of  the  much-wooed 
Mary  Gary  : 

"  Edward  Ambler  was  about  six  feet  in  height,  with  a 
slender  and  remarkably  genteel  figure,  and  a  fine,  manly, 
expressive  face.  As  he  had  mingled  with  the  best  society 
in  Europe,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  his  manners 


486       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

were  as  polished  as  those  of  any  nobleman  in  England. 
He  was  a  man  of  great  wealth  and  finished  education, 
and  ardently  attached  to  his  wife,  who  found  him  the 
kindest  and  most  indulgent  husband  in  the  world.  Why, 
then,  should  she  regret  the  step  she  had  taken  in  choos 
ing  between  him  and  his  illustrious  rival  ?  " 

Still  another  family  paper  mentions,  "  as  a 
curious  fact,  that  the  lady  George  Washington 
afterwards  married  resembled  Miss  Gary  as 
much  as  one  twin  sister  ever  did  another." 
We  look  at  the  portrait  upon  Dr.  Moncure's 
wall  after  all  the  evidence  is  in,  unable,  as  we 
confess,  to  trace  the  alleged  resemblance  be 
tween  the  first  and  latest  loves  of  the  Nation's 
Benefactor.  The  turban  or  cap — a  part,  we 
are  told,  of  a  fancy  dress  in  which  she  chose 
to  be  painted — is  disfiguring,  hiding  as  it  does, 
the  contour  of  the  cheeks  and  elongating  the 
face,  besides  concealing  most  of  the  hair,  which 
is  chestnut  and  apparently  abundant.  The 
complexion  is  exquisite  ;  the  eyes  are  dark 
blue.  Mary  Gary  must  have  owed  much  to 
color,  expression,  and  manner,  if  the  limner 
did  her  justice,  and  if  the  stories  of  her  sur 
passing  loveliness  are  true.  Yet,  as  we  gaze 
longer  upon  the  fresh  young  face,  we  note  the 
smooth,  low  brow,  the  spirited  curve  of  the 


MARY  GARY. 

WASHINGTON'S    FIRST    LOVE. 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     489 

mouth,  the  fine  oval  of  cheek  and  chin,  and 
begin  to  comprehend  the   probability  of  the 
sway  she  held  over  the  hearts  of  two  of  the 
finest  men  in  the  grand  old  Mother  State. 
A  letter,  still  extant,  from  Washington  to  a 

o 

friend  who  had  bantered  him  upon  his  admira 
tion  of  Mrs.  Custis,  contains  this  remarkable 
passage  : 

"  You  need  not  tease  me  about  the  beauti 
ful  widow.  You  know  very  well  whom  I  love." 

The  great  chieftain  is  a  trifle  more  human 

o 

to  our  apprehension  for  the  rift  in  the  granitic 
formation  that  grants  us  a  glimpse  of  fire  in 
the  heart  of  the  boulder. 

In  the  old  Bruton  parish  church  (founded 
in  1632)  we  are  shown  the  gray  marble  font 
from  which  Pocahontas  was  baptized.  The 
building  is  smaller  now  than  in  the  times  of 
the  royal  Governors,  by  the  depth  of  the  room 
cut  off  from  the  rear  of  the  altar.  In  this 
room  is  the  royal  gallery  where  sat  the  repre 
sentative  of  the  Crown,  his  family,  and  sub- 
officers,  during  divine  service.  A  door  at  the 
back  was  the  private  entrance  to  what  corre 
sponded  in  the  provinces  with  the  royal  "closet " 
in  English  chapel  or  cathedral.  That  shabby 
little  door  opened  Sunday  after  Sunday  for 


49°      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

one  year  to  let  pass  into  the  gallery  such  fine 
folk  as  "  the  Right  Honorable  the  Countess 
of  Dunmore,  with  Lord  Fincastle,  the  Honor 
able  Alexander  and  John  Murray,  and  the 
Ladies  Catherine,  Augusta,  and  Susan  Mur- 
ray." 

From  a  visitor  at  the  palace  we  hear  that 
"  Lady  Dunmore  is  a  very  elegant  woman. 
Her  daughters  are  fine,  sprightly,  sweet  girls. 
Goodness  of  heart  flashes  from  them  in  every 
look."  That  was  the  eighteenth-century  Jen 
kins  manner  of  speaking  of  the  occupants  of 
the  royal  "closets."  We  volunteer  surmises 
as  to  who  filled  this  particular  post  of  honor 
upon  June  i,  1774,  the  memorable  fast-day 
when  all  the  worshippers  wore  mourning,  and 
the  text  of  the  sermon  was,  "Help,  Lord !  for 
the  godly  man  ccascth,  for  the  faithful  fail  from 
among  the  children  of  men"  Lady  Dunmore 
and  her  daughters  may  have  had  their  dish  of 
taxed  tea  that  evening.  No  true  lover  of  her 
country  and  liberty  touched  or  tasted  the 
banned  thing. 

In  the  hospitable  homestead  of  Mrs.  Cyn 
thia  Tucker  Coleman,  not  far  away  from  the 
church,  is  a  portrait  of  Pocahontas's  greatest 
descendant,  John  Randolph  of  Roanoke.  It 


•   : 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     493 

represents  him  at  the  age  of  thirty,  at  which 
date  he  was  in  Congress.  The  likeness  is  as 
gentle-eyed  and  sweet  of  face  as  that  of  an 
amiable  boy  of  seventeen.  Pale  brown  hair, 
with  auburn  lights  in  it,  falls  low  on  the  fore 
head.  There  is  not  a  token,  in  the  serene, 
contemplative  visage  and  clear  eyes,  of  the 
morbid  wretchedness  of  which  bitter  cynicism 
was  the  mask.  In  the  same  dwelling  is  kept 
the  silver  communion  service  used  in  the 
Jamestown  church  as  far  back  as  1661.  It 
bears  the  inscription,  in  English  and  Latin, 
"Mix  not  holy  things  with  profane."  There  is 
also  a  service  presented  to  "  Christ  Church, 
Bruton  Parish,"  by  Queen  Anne,  who,  a 
chronicler  affirms,  "  loved  her  college." 

In  this  home,  now  tenanted  by  his  great- 
half-niece,  John  Randolph  passed  much  of  his 
early  life.  One  of  the  fairest  pictures  con 
jured  up  by  the  magic  wand  of  tradition  is 
that  of  his  beautiful  mother — whose  portrait 
faces  his  from  the  opposite  wall — wearing  wid 
ow's  weeds,  and  kneeling,  with  a  pretty  boy 
beside  her,  "his  fresh  face  pressed  against  her 
black  gown,  in  the  picturesque  old  church  in 
Williamsburg  during  a  special  service  of  fast 
ing  and  prayer "  ;  which  special  occasion,  we 


494       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

choose  to  believe,  was  the  same  referred  to, 
just  now,  when  the  fearless  patriot  cried  from 
the  pulpit  to  the  God  of  armies  for  help. 
Mother  and  child  were  seen  thus  by  a  young 
Bermudian,  an  alumnus  of  William  and  Mary, 
who  strayed  into  the  sanctuary,  and,  in  the 
graceful  phrase  of  his  great-grandson,  Mr. 
Charles  Washington  Coleman,  from  whom  we 
have  the  story,  "found  that  love  at  first  sight 
was  as  possible  then  as  in  '  the  still-vexed  Ber- 
moothes '  of  The  Tempest."  He  made  the 
acquaintance  of  his  charmer,  declared  his  pas 
sion,  and,  after  a  while,  was  rewarded  with  her 
heart  and  hand.  Writing  about  it  fifty  years 
afterwards,  he  said,  "  I  thought  I  had  never 
seen  so  beautiful  a  woman  or  so  beautiful  a 
child." 

"  Thus  St.  George  Tucker,  when  an  old 
man,  Professor  of  Law  in  William  and  Mary, 
and  a  Judge  of  the  United  States  Court,  re 
corded  his  first  meeting  with  his  distinguished 
stepson." 

John  Randolph  found  in  him  the  kindest, 
most  indulgent  of  stepfathers. 

One  of  the  notable  figures  of  old  Williams- 
burg  society  was  known  to  the  day  of  her 
death  as  "  Lady  Christina  Stuart,"  although 


495 


JOHN  RANDOLPH,  OF  ROANOKE,  (AT  THE  AGE  OF  30). 

FROM  ORIGINAL  PORTRAIT  BY  GILBERT  STUART. 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg     497 

married  to  Mr.  John  Griffin,  and  with  him  a 
pilgrim  in  the  New  World.  Descended  from 
the  royal  Stuart  line,  she  possessed  beauty  of 
a  high  order,  and  tales  of  her  stateliness  are  as 
numerous  as  those  of  her  piety  and  charity. 
Another  dame  of  high  degree  was  "  Lady  " 
Skipworth,  a  daughter  of  the  third  William 
Byrd,  of  Westover,  and  niece  of  "  the  fair 
Evelyn"  whose  tragic  love-story  is  a  favorite 
theme  with  tide-water  raconteurs.  Linger 
ing  by  the  neglected  burying-ground  in  which 
she  lies,  we  hearken,  not  faithless,  not  alto 
gether  credulous,  to  the  tale  of  her  restless 
flittings  in  white  attire  from  room  to  room  of 
an  ancient  mansion  in  which  she  died. 

Seated  in  the  cosy  parlor  of  a  yet  older 
house,  face  to  face  with  the  sweet-faced,  sweet- 
toned  mistress,  we  quite  believe  the  recital 
given  by  the  voice — whose  modulations  are 
like  "  the  music  of  Carryl  "  to  ears  once  familiar 
with  the  slow  ripple  of  Virginia  speech — of  the 
click  of  high  heels  that  echoes  along  the  hall 
to  the  door  of  the  apartment  in  which  we  are 
now  seated,  and  that  the  door  flies  open  as 
the  footfalls  reach  it, — a  phenomenon  so  often 
repeated  that  the  occurrence  excites  no  alarm, 
scarcely  remark,  among  the  visible  inmates  of 


498       Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

the  dwelling.  Sometimes  the  wearer  of  the 
high-heeled  slippers  walks  in  broad  daylight, 
but  usually  at  night.  All  attempts  to  fathom 
the  mystery  have  been  fruitless.  The  accus 
tomed  ears  of  our  hostess  have  supplied  other 
senses  with  a  vivid  conception  of  what  manner 
of  ghost  is  the  unquiet  visitant.  The  feet  are 
small,  she  is  sure  ;  the  tread  is  light,  with  the 
buoyancy  of  youth  ;  the  carriage  is  high-bred. 
The  "  tap  !  tap  !  "  of  the  dainty  heels  begins 
at  the  back  of  the  wide  hall,  and  moves  stead 
ily  to  the  door  ;  obedient  to  her  touch,  the 
door  is  opened,  as  by  the  eager  hand  of  an 
expectant  lover, — then  all  is  silent.  Did  the 
nameless  "  she  "  meet  her  fate  upon  the  thresh 
old  ?  or  does  she  still  seek  and  pursue  it  ? 

An  upper  chamber  is  haunted  by  a  young 
Frenchman,  one  of  Rochambeau's  officers,  who 
died  here  during  the  Revolutionary  war,  the 
house  being  in  use  then  by  Washington  and 
others  in  high  command.  The  apartment 
across  the  hall  from  the  foreigner's  death-room, 
has  periodical  visitations  upon  the  anniversary 
of  the  decease  of  Chancellor  Wythe,  who  once 
owned  and  lived  in  the  mansion.  He  was 
done  to  his  death  by  poison  administered  by 
his  nephew.  At  the  hour  and  on  the  night  in 


Jamestown  and  Williamsburg      499 

which  he  breathed  his  last,  a  closet  door  un 
closes,  an  icy  wind  pours  forth,  and  a  cold 
hand  is  passed  over  the  face  of  whomsoever 
may  be  the  occupant  of  the  bed.  More  than 
one  sceptic  has  begged  for  and  obtained  per 
mission  to  sleep  in  the  chamber  upon  the 
anniversary,  but  none  has  ever  cared  to  repeat 
the  experiment. 

They  are,  one  and  all,  punctilious  ghosts, 
the  smiling  narrator  adds,  never  encroaching 
upon  each  other's  beats,  behavior  becoming 
Rochambeau's  contemporary,  the  dainty  dame 
of  the  clicking  tread,  and  the  courtly  Chancel 
lor.  A  house  upon  the  same  side  of  the 
street  is  as  affluent  in  disembodied  residents 
or  guests,  offering,  as  it  does,  especial  facilities 
for  their  occupation  and  entertainment  in  a 
double  roof  and  divers  secret  chambers,  one 
of  which  was  but  recently  discovered. 

All  this  well-attested  ghost-lore  does  not 
touch  our  hearts  or  quicken  our  fancy  as  does 
one  small  pane  of  glass  in  a  pleasant  home 
across  the  way  from  the  double-roofed  domi 
cile.  The  room  is  not  large,  and  somewhat 
secluded,  looking  out  upon  a  side-garden. 
Lilac-bushes,  mossy  with  age,  shade  the  lower 
part  of  the  window.  It  is  just  the  nook  that 


500      Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

would  be  selected  for  lonely  musing  or  silent 
weeping  by  love-sick  girl  or  stricken  woman. 
We  can  see  the  mourner  leaning  her  forehead 
against  the  sash  as  she  writes  with  her  diamond 
ring  upon  the  glass  : 

"  1796.     Nov.  2j.     Ah,  fatal  day  /  " 

Tradition  is  dumb  as  to  the  trembling  record, 
— silence  we  hardly  regret. 

A  young  girl,  who  might  be  the  double  of 
what  the  sad  writer  was  before  the  fatal 
shadow  swallowed  up  the  light  of  her  world, 
offers  to  trace  a  fac-simile  of  the  piteous 
legend  upon  tissue-paper  for  me,  and  I  watch 
her  intent  face  and  slender  fingers  with  a  grow 
ing  pain  I  cannot  define,  only  that  it  goes  with 
thoughts  of  other  fingers — still  and  pulseless 
long  ago — and  of  the  old  story  that  is  never 
trite, — of  love,  of  loss,  and  heart-break. 

She  who  does  me  the  favor  does  not  know 
why  I  cannot  smile  in  thanking  her  for  her 
goodness  to  the  stranger  within  her  gates. 
As  I  might  handle  a  sentient  thing,  I  fold  the 
bit  of  paper,  and  lay  it  gently  between  the 
leaves  of  the  note-book  that  records,  after  all, 
but  little  that  we  have  seen,  heard  and  felt 
during  our  sojourn  in  the  dear  old  town  where 
ghosts  walk. 


INDEX 


Adams,  John,  in,  326 
Adams,  John  Quincy,  98,  326 
Albany,  152,   153,    154,  175,187, 

2OI,   2O2,   254,  255 

Allen,  Abigail,  410 

Allen,  Edward,  407 

Alston,  Colonel,  24 

Ambler,  Edward,  94,  277,485 

Ambler,  Jaquelin,  94 

Ambler,  Mary,  95 

Ambler,  Mary  Willis,  94,  95 

Ambler,  Richard,  94 

Amblers,  The,  90,  94,  97,  473 

Ambroise,  419 

Amrusus,  419 

Anderson,  Major  Richard,  97 

Anderson,  Major  Robert,  97 

Andre,    Major  John,    116,    118, 

119,  122 
Andre,       Lieutenant        William 

Lewis,  116 
Andros,  Sir    Edmund,  175,   202, 

203 

Antigua,  15 

Appamatuck,  Queen  of,  433 
Arbuthnot,  47 

Argall,  Captain  Samuel,  448,  468 
Argyle,  Duke  of,  23 
Armistead,  Judith,  71 
Arnold,  Benedict,  6,  55,  79,  117, 

266,  267 
Arnold,  Mrs    Benedict,  267 


B 


Bacon,  Nathaniel,  474,  475 
!    Baker,  Miss  Alice,  384 
;    Ballston  Spa,  300 

Bard,  Dr.,  184 

Barrack  Hill,  149,  152 

Battery,  The,  195 

Bayard,  Nicholas,  175,  244,  279 

Beck,  T.  Romeyn,  182 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  141 

Bellamy,  Rev.  Dr.,  340 

Belleville  (N.  J.),  162 

Bellomont,  Richard  Coote,  Earl 
of,  207,  208,  241,  242,  243, 
246,  247,  248,  249,  250 

Belvoir,  261,  484 

Berkeley,  50,  53,  60,  bi,  62,  69, 

73 

|    Berkeley,  Carter,  64 
'    Berkeley,  Lady  Frances,  474 
Berkeley,  Sir  William,  105,  473, 

474 
|    Bermuda  Hundred,  70 

Bethlehem  (Penn.),  132,  135 
I    Beverley,  258,    265,    267,     273, 
279 

Beverwyck,  202 

Bland,  Theodorick,  33 

Blount,  Martha,  31,  38 

Bluff,  Drewry's,  56 

Bogardus,    Everardus,    172,    245 

Bogart,  David,  305,  311 

Bonaparte,  Jerome,  322 


SOT 


502 


Index 


Bonaparte,  Joseph,  289,  321 
Bonaparte,    Napoleon,  289,  290, 

293 

Boutetourt,  Lord,  479 
Bouwerie,   The  Dominie's,   172, 

173 

Bouillon,  Godfrey  of,  351 
Bowen,  Eliza,  286,  306 
Boyle,  Charles,  54 
Boyle,  Sir  Robert,  478 
Braddock,  General,  262,  276 
Brandon,    Lower,  2,    3,   5,  6,  8, 

14,  19,  25,  27,  32,  37 
Brandon,  Martin's,  2 
Brandon,  Upper,  27,  29,  37,  73 
Brant,  Joseph,  184,  187 
Braxton,  Carter,  64 
Brid,  Le,  34 
Bridge,  King's,  239 
Brockholls,    Anthony,  161,    162, 

163,  169,  254 
Brockholls,  Joanna,  254 
Burgesses,  House  of,  66, 105,  482 
Burlington  (N.  J.),  112 
Burr,  Aaron,  296,  299,  300,  301, 

302,    304,   305,  307,  308,  311, 

313,  314,  318,  322,  326 
Burr,  Mrs.,  315,   316,    317,  318, 

320 

Burr,  Theodosia,  184 
Burwell,  Rebecca,  94 
Butler,  General,  10 
Byrd  Coat-of-Arms,  34 
Byrd,  Evelyn,  24,  38,  43,  45,  47, 

51,  52,  83,  497 
Byrd,  George  L.,  27 
Byrd,  Mrs.,  55,  77,  78,  79 
Byrds,  The,  33 
Byrd,  William  (i),  34,  37,  52 
Byrd,  William  (2)  Evelyn,  16,  23, 

'24,  25,  34,  37,  38,  39,  41,  47, 

57,  255 
"Byrd,  Colonel  William  (3),   53, 

54,  56,  76,  497 


Caghonowaga,  418 
Caldwell,  James,  187 


Carrington,  Mrs.  Edward,  95 
Carter,  Charles,  76 
Carter  Coat-of-Arms,  66 
Carter,    Elizabeth   Hill,    53,    76, 

81 

Carter,  Hill,  of  Shirley,  64 
Carter,  John,  66,  69,  75 
Carter, 'Robert  ("  King"),    66, 

67,  69,  70 

Carter,  Robert  Randolph,  75 
Carters,  The,  2,  70,  75 
Gary,  Mary,   94,   277,  483,  484, 

485,  486 

Gary,  "  Sally,"  483,  484 
Castle  Philipse,  240 
Catskill,  202 

Caughnawaga,  419,  426,  430 
Chamberlayne,  William,  34 
Chamblee,  393,  398 
Champney    House    and    Studio, 

427 

Champney,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Wil 
liams,  384,  385,  388 
Charles  L,  105 

Chastelleux,  Marquis  de,  79,  290 
Chester,  Bishop  of,  425 
Chesterfield,  Lord,  238 
Chew,  Anne,  107 
Chew,  Anne  Penn,  126,  129 
Chew,  Benjamin,  108,  109,   1 12, 

113,  116,  121,  125 
Chew,  Benjamin,  Jr.,  125 
Chew,  Beverly,  130 
Chew  Coach,  130 
Chew  Coat-of-Arms,  105 
Chew,  John,  106 
Chew,  Joseph,  130 
Chew,  "Peggy,"  116,  117,  118, 

120 

Chew,  Samuel,  106 
Chew,  Dr.  Samuel,  107 
I    Chickahominy,  The,  432 
I    Church,  Benjamin,  383 
City  Hall,  Yonkers,  268 
City  Point  (Va.),  70 
Clarendon,  Lord,  212 
Claypole,  Elizabeth,  23 
C'lermont,  216,  222,  227,  250 


Index 


503 


Clinton,  "  Caty,"  181,  195,  196 
Clinton,  Governor  George,   181, 

255 
Cliveden,  104,  in,  113,  114,  116, 

irS,  122,  125,  126,  127 
Codwise,  David,  343 
Coleman,    Charles    Washington, 

494 
Coleman,  Mrs.  Cynthia  Tucker, 

490 

Colfax,  Ester,  163,  165,  170 
Colfax,  George,  169 
Colfax,  Lieutenant,  165,  170 
Colfax,  Schuyler,  169 
Colfax,    Dr.    William    Schuyler, 

162,  170 

Colfax,  Dr.  W.  \V.,  149,  169 
Cooke,  Rose  Terry,  413 
Cooper,  Fenimore,  60 
Cormvallis,  Lord,  55,  79 
Corotoman,  69 
Crafts,  Alexander,  221 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  376 
Cromwell,  Thomas,  376 
Cromwell,      "alias     Williams," 

377 

Croton,  177,  178,  250 
Cubieres,  Marquis  de,  290 
Cumberland,  Fort,  53 
Curtis,  George  William,  410 
Custis,       George       Washington 

Parke,  135,  136 
Custis,  Nelly,  135 
Custis,  The  Widow,  277 


I) 


Dale,  Sir  Thomas,  64,  447,  449, 
451,  452,  453,  459,  460,  461, 
462,  473 

Dartmouth,  Lord,  212 

Deerfield    (Massachusetts),    378, 

379,  383.  384,  385,  392»  393, 
396,  403,  404,  407,  408,  409, 
410,  411,  416,  418,  429,  430 
De  Joinville,  Prince,  289,  321 
De  la  Warr,  Lord,  447,  456,  472 
De  Lancey,  175,  279 


De  Lauzun,  178 

De  Maudit,  Chevalier  de,  114 

De  Peyster,  Catherine,  176,  195 

De  Peysters,  250,  279 

De  Rogers,  419 

Deshler,  Catherine,  137 

Deshler,  David,  131,  132,  137 

Deshler  Place,  137 

Dividing  Line,  25 

Dorchester  (Massachusetts),  346, 

347,  348,  349,  351,  352,  382 
Drevvry,   Major  A.   H.,    56,   58, 

60 
Dudley,  His  Excellency,  Joseph, 

388,  417 

Dudley,  Mr.  William,  417 
Dunbar,  Rev.  John,  52 
Dunmore,  Lady,  490 
Dunmore,  Lord,  482,  490 
Dyckhuyse,  Swan  tie,  156 


Earle-Cliff,  325 

Earle,   General    Fei  linand   Pin- 

ney,  325 
Eels,"  Mrs.,  407 
|    Elphinstone,  Lord,  178 
Ercole,  Alcide,  322 
Esopus,  155 
Evelynton,  52 
Everett,  Edward,  12 


1 


Fairfax,    George   W.lliam,    483, 

484 
Fairfax,   Sarah  Cary,    261,   483, 

484 

Federal  Rock,  142 

Ffrench,  Thomas,  407 

Fillmore,  Millard,  u,  19 
i    Flagg,  Ethan,  273,  275 

Fletcher,  Governor,  245 
|    Fort  Washington,  282,  285,  288, 
292,  308 

Fountleroy,  Colonel  Moore,  66 
;    Frankford,  136 


504 


Index 


Franklin,  Benjamin,  24,  54,  178 
Franks,  Colonel   Isaac,  132,  135 
Fredericksburg  (Va.),  112 
Fulton,  Robert,  238 


Gay,  The  Poet,  47 
Geer,  Mrs.  Gertrude,  339 
Germantown    (Penn.),  131,  132, 

135 

"  Ghost-room,"  The,  195,   197 
Gooch,  Governor,  258 
Grahame,  James,  242 
Green  Bay  (Wisconsin),  426 
Greenfield  (Massachusetts),  395 
Green  River,  395,  430 
Green  Spring,  474 
Greenway,  Ann,   348,   361,   365, 

366 

Greenway,  John,  348,  365 
Griffin,  Mr.  John,  497 
Grolier  Club,  The,  130 


II 


Hamilton,  Alexander,  181,  266 
296,  326 

Hamilton,  Mrs.  Alexander,  181, 
326 

Hamor,  Master  Ralph,  449,  461 

Harlem,  314 

Harlem  Heights,  262,  265,  277, 
279,  292,  300 

Harrison,  Mrs.  Anne,  50 

Harrison,  Benjamin,  of  Berke 
ley,  5,  24,  54,  69 

Harrison,  Major  Charles  Shirley, 

27 . 
Harrison,  George  Evelyn,  8,  26 

Harrison,    Mrs.   Isabella,   8,  10, 

u,  14,  19.  27 
Harrison,  Miss,  25,  56 
Harrison,  Nathaniel,  5,  7 
Harrison,  William  Byrd,  27 
Harrison,   Mrs.    William    Byrd, 

31 


Harrison,  General  William 
Henry,  18,  62 

Harrisons,  The,  of  Berkeley  and 
Brandon,  2,  50,  53 

Harvie,  General  Jaquelin  Bur- 
well,  87 

Hatcher,  William,  65 

Hatfield    (Massachusetts),     392^ 

393 

Hawes,  Samuel  Pierce,  355 
Hening,  33 

Henry,  Patrick,  469,  482 
Henry,  Hon.  William  \Virt,  469 
Hill,  "Sir  "  Edward,  65,  66,  69, 

75 

Hill,  General,  413 
Hingham,  327 
Hinman,  Colonel,  330 
Hogg  Island,  105 
Homewood,   105 
Horsemander,  Wareham,  52,  69 
Hotspur,  Harry,  351 
Howard,    Colonel   John    Eager, 

121,  122,  123 

Howards,  The  Baltimore,  119 
Howe,   The  American  General, 

145 

Howe,  Sir  William,  116 
Hunter,  Governor,  212 


Ingleby,  Lady  Frances,  5 


J 


James  I.,  105 

James  River,  The,  I,  2,  3,  4,  14, 

55,  63,  105,  130 
Jamestown,   105,  439,   440,  441,. 

442,  448,  449,  451,  453,  476 
Jans,  "  The  Widow,"  172 
Jansen,  Anneke,  172,  173 
Jansen,  Rolef,  202 
Japazaws,  448,  449 
Jaquelin,  Edward,  94 
Jaquelins,  The,  473 


Index 


505 


Jefferson,    Thomas,  5,  94,  326, 

482  f 
Josephine,    The   Empress,   293, 

294 

Jumel  House,  305,  309 
Jumel,  Madame,   288,  290,   291, 

293,  296,   299,    301,  302,  303, 

304,  306,  307,  311,   313,   322, 

324,  326 
Jumel,    Stephen,   285,  286,  287, 

288,  289,  291,   293,    295,   300, 

311,  317,  326 
Jumels,  The,  321 


K 


Kent,  Chancellor,  318 

Kidd,     Captain     William,    208, 

243,  246,  247,  248,  249 
Kieft,  William,  171 
Kightewanke  Creek,  174 
King's  Bridge,  239 
King's  College,  256 
King's  Highway,  141 
Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  17,  39,  45 
Knox,  General,  113,  326 


Lafayette,  15,  129,  181,  266 
Lancaster  County,  66 
Laud,  Archbishop,  105 
Laurens,  Colonel,  114 
Lawson,  Sir  Wilfred,  38 
Lee,  Annie  Carter,  70 
Lee,  Arthur,  55 

Lee,  "  Light-Horse  Harry,"  70 
Lee,  Richard  Henry,  482 
Lee,  Robert  E.,  70 
Leigh,  Benjamin  Watkins,  101 
Leisler,  Colonel,  154 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  10 
Linlithgow,  201,  202,  213,  230 
"  Livengus,"  201 
Livingston,  Clermont,  222 
Livingston,    George   of   Linlith 
gow,  20 1 


Livingston,     Gertrude     (Alida), 

201,  209 

Livingston,  Gilbert  Robert,  335 
Livingston,  Henry,  216 
Livingston,     Herman    (i),    213, 

.222,    233 

Livingston,  Herman  (2),  219 
Livingston,    Joanna,    176,    191, 

IQ2 

Livingston,  John,  216,  222,  223, 

225,  227,  228,  230 
Livingston,  John  Henry,  222 
Livingston  Manor,  201,  213,  216, 

219,   221,   222,   234 

Livingston,  "  Messer  John,"  202 
Livingston,  Philip,  216,  217,  226 
Livingston,  Robert  C.,  216 
Livingston,  Robert,  Jr.,  216 
Livingston,    Robert  Tong,   221, 

222 
Livingston,    Robert    (the     First 

Lord  of  the  Manor),  201,  202, 

204,   205,   207,  208,  211,   212, 

219,  221,   233,   237,  243,  246, 

248,  249,  343 
Livingston,  Sarah,  Lady  Stirling, 

226 

Livingstons,  The,  242,  250,  279 
Livingston,  Walter,  216 
Longmeadow     (Massachusetts), 

415,  421,  422 

Loockermans,  Annetje,  173 
Lovelace,  173 
Low,  Cornelius  P.,  267 


M 


Madagascar,  243,  244,  247 
Mahopac,  Lake,  265,  279 
Malvern  Hills,  70 
Mandeville,  149 
Manhattan,  Island  of,  173,  267 
Manor,  Van  Cortlandt,  174,  175 
Manor-House,    The   Van    Cort 
landt,  171,  176,  178,  179,  180, 
183,  195,  199 
Marlborough,  Duke  of,  15 
Marriner,  "  Farmer,"  282,  285 


Index 


Marshall,  Chief-Justice,  John, 
84,  85,  86,  88,  89,  93,  94,  95, 
96,  296 

Marshall  House,  The,  85,  86 

Marshall,  Mrs.,  97,  98 

Martin,  John,  2,  7 

Mary  and  John,  The,  346,  357, 

365 

Maryland,  106 
Massachusetts,    327,    346,    349, 

361,  369,   370.  375,  378,  382, 

403,  415,  422,  425 
Massassoit,  379 
Mather,  Rev.  Eleazar,  396 
Mather,  Eunice,  382,  410 
Mather,  Esther,  396 
Mather,  Richard,  382 
Mathews,  Rev.  John  Rutherford, 

183 
Mathews,  Mrs.  John  Rutherford, 

191,  192 

Mayo,  Major,  42 
McClenachan,  Blair,  125 
Meacham,  Rev.  Joseph,  417,  421 
Meeting-House  Hill,  353 
Metacomet,  379 
Milborne,  Captain,  154 
Minot  House,  347 
"  Mischianza,"  The,    116,    117, 

122 
Moncure,    Dr.  J.    D.,  483,   484, 

486 

Montague,  Charles,  Earl  of  Hali 
fax,  24 
Monticello,  6 
Monroe,  Fort,  10,  II 
Mordaunt,  Charles,  47 
Mordaunts.  The,  49 
Morris,  Elliston  Perot,  131,  139, 

140 
Morris,  Governor  Samuel,    139, 

140 

Morris,  Henry  Gage,  283 
Morris  House,  The,  131,  133,  137 
Morris,    Roger,    262,   268,    276, 

277,  279,  280,  282 
Morris,   Mrs.    Roger,   265,    273, 

277,  285,  324 


Morristown    (N.    J.),    141,    142, 

145 

Morristown  Road,  150,  151 
Moseley,  Abigail,  365 
Moseley,  Sarah,  370 
Mowatt,  Anna  Cora,  20 


N 


Nanfran,     Lieutenant-Governor, 

208 

Nansemond  County,  66 
Napoleon  I. ,289,  290,  293,  317, 

324 

Napoleon,  Louis,  289,  321 
Napoleon,  Prince  ("Plon-Plon"), 

322 

New  Amsterdam,  171,  172 
New  Jersey,  141,  156,  157,  161 
New  York  City,   130,   131,  172, 
227,  243,   245,   247,  250,  254, 
256,  258,  261,  262,  273,  276, 
286,  291,  299,  301,  306,  314 
Nicholson,  Sir  Francis,  476 
Norfolk,  2,  70 
Norfolk,  Upper,  66, 
Norton,  Charles  Eliot,  410 


Oak  Hill,  upon  Livingston 
Manor,  201,  216,  222,  226, 
227,  228,  231,  233,  234,  238 

Opechancanough,  61,432 


Page,  Major  Mann,  14 

Page,  Mann,  of  Timberneck,  69 

Page  of  Pagebrook,  53 

Pagerie,  de  la,  293 

Palace,  Williamsburg,  97 

Palatines,  211.  212,  213,  216 

Parke,  Colonel  Daniel,  15,  16, 17, 

34,  38 

Parke,  Lucy,  44 
Passaic  County,  157 
Passaic  River,  157 


Index 


507 


Patawomekes,  The,  474 

Paulding,  J.  R.,   n 

Paulet,  Sir  John,  "3 

Peale,   Rembrandt.  75 

Pearce,    Richanl,  347 

Peirce,  Frederick  Clifton,  347 

Peirce,  Professor  J.  M.,  346 

Penn,  John,  112 

Penn,  William,  129 

Pennsylvania,  107,  108 

Percie,  Master  George,  351,451, 

473 

Percys,  The,  of  Northumber 
land,  351 

Perot.  Huguenot,  131 

Peterborough,  Lord,  47,  48 

Philadelphia,  108,  in,  120,  131, 
132,  133 

Philip,  King,  379,  383 

Philipse,  Eva,  250 

Philipse,  Frederick  (i),  239,  243, 
248,  249,  250 

Philipse,  Frederick  (2),  250,  253, 
255,  258 

Philipse,  Frederick  (3),  256,  257, 
265 

Philipse,  Manor-House,  239,  240, 
251,  253,  255,  256,  262,  267, 
268,  272,  273,  276,  278 

Philipse,  Mary,  261,  262 

Philipse,  My  Lady,  249 

Philipse,   Philip,  249 

Philipse,  Susan,  257 

Phillips,  General,  6 

Pierce,  Abigail  Thompson,  352, 
,354,  362 

Pierce,  Hon.  Andrew,  370 

Pierce,  Ann,  357 

Pierce,  Hon.  Benjamin,  370 

Pierce  Crest,  346 

Pierce,  Elizabeth,  357 

Pierce,  Elizabeth  How,  358 

Pierce,  General  E.  W.,  369 

Pierce,  George  Francis,  374 

Pierce,  President  Franklin,  370 

Pierce,  Henry  of  Brookline,  370 

Pierce  Homestead,  346,  349 

Pierce,  John  (i),  347 


Pierce  John  (2),   352,   353,    362, 

366 

Pierce,  Rev.  John,  370 
Pierce,  Lewis,  370,  374 
I    Pierce,  Lewis  Francis,  370,  373, 

374 

Pierce,  Hon.  Oliver,  370 
Pierce,    Robert,   346,    347,   348, 

35i,  365,  366 

Pierce,  Samuel  (i),  352,  365 
Pierce,  Samuel  (2),  355 
Pierce,  Samuel  (3),  355 
Pierce,  Colonel  Samuel  (4),   355, 

357,  358,  359,  366,  369,  374 
Pierce,  Colonel  Thomas   Went- 

worth,  370 

Pierce,  William  Augustus,  374 
Pocahontas,    61,    64,    432,    434, 

436,  439,  441,  443,  444,  446, 

447,  448,  449,  454,  457,  461, 

466,  469,  472 

'    Pocomptuck  Indians,  378 
Pocomptuck  Village,  379,  385 
Pompiton  Indians,  151 
Pompton  (N.  J.),  141,  142,  145, 

146,  149,  161,  162 
|    Pompton  Plains,  151 
i    Pope,  Alexander,  31 
Pope,  General,  55 
Port  Richmond,  319 
Potomacs,  The,  447,  448,  450 
Powhatan,The  Emperor,  70,432, 
433,  434,  439,  441,  442,  443, 
449,  450,  452,  456,  460,  466, 

467,  470,  473,  477 
Powhatan  River,  I 

j    Presque  Isle,  2 
Provost,  Mrs.  Theodosia,  305 
Purchas,  469 

Q 

Quebec,  391,  401,  41? 
Queen  Street  Mansion,  250 


Ramapo  Lake,  145 
Ramapo  River,  146 


5o8 


Index 


Randolph,    John    of    Roanoke, 

49°,  493,  494,  495 
Randolphs,  The,  2 
Ratcliffe,  President,  446,  473 
Read,  Mrs.  William,  122 
Rebecca,   The  Lady,   465,   466, 

468,  472 

Red  Mill,  The,  265 
Reed,  Adjutant-General,  281 
Richmond,  Virginia,  I,  8,  70,  76, 

84,  97,  296,  462,  483 
Ritchie,  Dr.,  8,  9,  10 
Ritchie,  Thomas,  8 
Ritchie,  Miss  Virginia,  n 
Ritchie,  William  Foushee,  20 
Robinson,  Colonel  Beverley,  257, 

258,  261,  266,  267,  277 
Robinson,  Frederick,  258 
Robinson,  Colonel  William,  5 
Rochambeau,  178 
Rolfe,  John,   64,  453,   455,456, 

461,  462,  465,  466,  468,  472, 

474 

Rolfe,  Thomas,  469 
Rouville,  Major  Hertel  de,  386 
Ruffin,  F.  G.,  86 
Ruffin,  Mrs.  F.  G.,  87 
Rutgers  College,  181 


San  Domingo,  285 

Saratoga,  300 

Schuyler,  Captain  Abraham,  155 

Schuyler,  Adoniah,  157,  158,  161 

Schuyler,  Alida  (van),  201 

Schuyler,    Arent   (i),    154,    155, 

156,  IDT,  162 
Schuyler,    Arent  (2),    157,    158, 

161 

Schuyler,  Casparus,  163 
Schuyler,  Cornelius,  161 
Schuyler,  Ester,  163 
Schuyler    and     Colfax    Houses, 

141 
Schuyler  Homestead,    Pompton, 

N.  J.,  159 


Schuyler,  Johannes  (John),  153. 

418,  419,  420,  421 
Schuyler,    Margritta,     152,    154, 

155 
Schuyler,   Peter,    153,   154,   155, 

163 

Schuyler,  General  Philip,  181 
Schuyler,     Philip    Petersen,    (i) 

152,  155,  175,  201 
Schuyler,   Philip    (21,    157,    161, 

162 
Schuyler,    "  The  Widow,"    154, 

156,  163 

Schuyler,  Van,  175 
Schuylers,  The,  242 
Selyus,  Henricus,  241,  245 
Six  Nations,  255 
Shaccoa's,  26,  43 
Sharon  (Connecticut),  327,  329 
Sharon,     Meeting- House,     330, 
„  332 

Sheldon,  Rev.  George,  385 
Sheldon  House,  387 
Sheldon,  Captain  John,  387,  407 
Sheldon,  Mrs.  John,  387,  430 
Shippen,  Chief-Justice,  117 
Shippen,  Margaret,  117 
Shirley,   2,  63,    64,    69,    73,   74, 

75,  83 

Shirley,  Sir  Thomas,  64 
Shirley,  West,  64 
Shrewsbury,  247 
Skinner,  Cortlandt,  261 
Skipworth,  "  Lady,"  497 
Smith,  Cotton  Mather,  328,  329 

330,  332,  333 
Smith,     Gilbert    Livingston  (i) 

335,  336 
Smith,     Gilbert    Livingston  (2) 

339 
Smith,     Helen     Evertson,     331 

339,  344,  345 
Smith,    Helen    Livingston,  335. 

344 

Smith,  Henry,  327 
Smith  Homestead,  327,  337 
Smith,  Ichabod,  328 
Smith,  Jerusha  Mather,  328 


Index 


509 


Smith,  Captain  John,  73,  351, 
432,  433,  435,  436,  439,  440, 
441,  442,  444,  446,  447,  465, 
466,  467,  473,  475 

Smith,  Governor  John  Cotton, 
332,  334,  340 

Smith,  Rev.  John  Cotton,  D.D., 

331 

Smith,  John  Cotton,  Jr.,  335 
Smith,     Madame      Temperance 

Worthington,    328,    331,    332, 

336,  344 
Smith,  Margaret  Evertson,  334, 

343 
Smith,  Robert  Worthington,  335, 

336 

Smith,  Rev.  Roland  Cotton,  331 

Smith,  Samuel,  328 

Smith,  William  Mather,  334 

Smith's  (John)Coat-of-Arms,  432 

Smith's  (Sharon)  Crest,  327 

Somers,  247 

Southwell,  Sir  Robert,  24 

Spotswood,  Governor  Alex 
ander,  5,  480 

Staatje  (Little  Village),  213,  228, 
238 

Stafford,  105 

Stanhope,  Philip,  238 

Steuben,  178 

Stevenson,  Anne,  181,  196 

Stevenson,  John,  181 

Stirling,  Lord,  142,  226 

Stoddard,  Captain  John,  387, 
392,  413,  418 

Stone,  Dr.,  10 

Stone,  Mrs.,  10 

Stuart,  Lady  Christina,  464 

Stuckly,  Sir  Lewis,  469 

Stuyvesant,  171 

Sunnybank,  146,  151 


Talleyrand,  289 

Tamaranachqua;,  204 

Taylor,  Captain  John,  195,  196 


Taylor,  Maria,  37 
Teller,  Jenneke,  155,  156 
Terhune,  Rev.  Dr.,  146 
Tew,  Thomas,  245 
Thompson,  Rev.  William,  352 
Thorpe,  George,  61 
Torlonia,  Prince,  323 
Towowa,  164 
Tryon,  Governor,  177,  178 
Tuckahoe,  2 
Tyler,  John,  n 

U 

Union  Iron  Works,  1 12 
V 


Van  Buren,  John,  220 
Van  Blum,  Admiral,  334 
Van  Cortlandt,  Abram,  177 
Van      Cortlandt,     Miss      Anne 

Stevenson,  182 
Van      Cortlandt,      Mrs.       Anne 

Stevenson,  181,  196 
Van  Cortlandt,  "  Caty  "  Clinton, 

181,  195,  196 
Van    Cortlandt,   Mrs.   Catherine 

E.,  182,  187,  iSS,  199 
Van  Cortlandt  Coat-of- Arms,  171 
Van  Cortlandt,  Gilbert,  192 
Van   Cortlandt,    Captain  James 

Stevenson,   183 

Van  Cortlandt,    Joanna  Living 
ston,  179,  180,  188,  191,    192 
Van  Cortlandt,  John,  177,  184 
Van     Cortlandt    Manor-House, 

171,  174,   176,  179,    180,   183, 

185,  250 

Van  Cortlandt,  "  Nancy,"  192 
Van   Cortlandt,   Olaf   Stevense, 

171,  172,  173,   176,  244 
Van  Cortlandt,    Philip  (i),    176, 

177,  184,  192 
Van  Cortlandt,    Philip   (2),  177, 

180.  187 


5io 


Index 


Van  Cortlandt,  Philip  (Stephen's 

son),  178 
Van  Cortlandt,    Pierre  (i),    176, 

T77>  J79'  J84,  188,  191,  192 
Van  Cortlandt,    Pierre  (2),  181, 

195,  196 
Van   Cortlandt,    Pierre  (3),  177, 

181 

Van  Cortlandt,  Stephen,  177 
Van  Cortlandts,  The,  153,    200, 

242,   250,  279 

Vandreuil,  Marquis  de,  419 
Vandyke,  31,  38 
Van    Rensselaer,    Philip    Schuy- 

ler,  192 

Van  Rensselaers,  The,  153 
Van  Schuyler,  154 
Van    Wagenen,    Hendrick    Gar- 

ritse,  157,  162 
Varina,  432,  456,  462 
Verplancks,  The,  153 
Virginia,  I,  5,  8,  25,    34,  38,  53, 

62,    63,    64,    65,    66,   69,   70, 

73,  84,  87,  101,  105,  106,  112, 

258,  261,  277,  436,  447,  461, 

482 

W 


Walker,  Admiral,  413 
Wain,  Jesse,  136 
Walthoe,  Mister,  24 
Ward,  Sophia  Howard,  115 
Warham,  Rev.  John,  382 
Warner,  Charles  Dudley,  410 
Washington,  Fort,  262,  288,  292, 

308 

Washington,  George,  53,  75, 
TII,  115,  121,  132,  135,  136, 
137,  139,  T40,  142,  145,  150, 
164,  170,  178,  179,  225,  256, 
261,  262,  265,  266,  267,  271, 
272,  277,  280,  281,  282,  326, 
471,  482,  483,  484,  485,  486, 
487 

Washington  Heights,  306,  325, 
326 


|  Washington's  Headq'trs  (Pomp- 
ton,  N.  J.),  142.  143,  151 

Washington,  Lady,  135,  137, 
150,  170,  282,  326 

Werowocomoco,  432,  433,  435^ 
442,  444,  453 

Westhrope,  Elizabeth,  2 

Westhrope,  Major  John,  2 

Westover,  2,  24,  25,  33,  34,  37, 
38,  41,  44,  48,  50,  52,  53,  54, 
55,  57,  60,  73 

Westover  MSS.,  5,  25 

Wethersfield  (Connecticut),  164, 

327 

Whiston,  England,  64 
Whitefield,  George,  200,  232 
Wickhams,  The,  88 
William  and  Mary,  239,  476 
William    and   Mary    College,    5, 

99,  476,  478 

William  of  Normandy,  34,  201 
Williamsburg  (Va.),  5,  471,  476, 

479,  483,  484,  485,  493,  494 
William  of  Vevan,  376,  377 
Williams    Church    and    Parson 
age,  405,  407 

Williams  College,  336,  378 
Williams  Crest,  376 
Williams,  Eleazar,    Rev.,    Louis 

XVII.,  426 
Williams,     Eleazar,      383,     387, 

403,  417,  421 

Williams,  Eliakim  (i),  383 
Williams,  Eliakim  (2),  384,  392, 
Williams,  Eliakim  (3),  413 
Williams,  Elijah,  422 
Williams,  Mrs.  Elijah,  422 
Williams,  Ephraim,  377 
Williams,  Esther,  383,  403,  416 
Williams,  Eunice,  384,  417,  418, 

419,  421,  422,  429 
Williams,  Mrs.  Eunice,  387,  388, 

391,  396,  399,  430 
Williams,    Rev.  John,   378,  380, 

387,   388,   391,   396,   397,  399, 

403,   404,  407,  409,  410,  413, 

417,  418 
Williams,  John  (2),  384,  392 


Index 


Williams,  John  (3),  426 
Williams,  Chief  Joseph,  430 
Williams,    Mary    Hobart    Jour- 
dan,  426 

Williams  of  Penrhyn,  376 
Williams,  Richard,  376 
Williams,    Robert   of    Roxbury, 

375,  377-  378 
Williams,  Samuel,  383,  403,  414, 

416 

Williams,  Sarah,  425,  426 
WTilliams,     Stephen,     383,     403, 

417,  421 
Williams,  Stephen  \V.    (M.D.), 

375 

Williams  (Surgeon),  425 
Williams,  Thomas,  426,  429 
Williams,    Warham,     384,    403, 
415,  4l6 


Williams,  William,  377 
Williamses,  The,  375 
Williamstown,  378 
Willing,  "  Molly,"  77 
Wise,  Henry  A.,  84 
Wister,  Charles,  136 
W7ithington,  Melissa,  370 
Worthington,       Rev.      William. 

332 

Worthington,  Sir  William,  328 
Wren,  Sir  Christopher,  476 
\Vynne,  Thomas,  27 
Wythe,  Chancellor,  498,  499 


Yonkers,  239,  240,  251,  268,  271 


By  Marion   Harland 

Some  Colonial  Homesteads 

And  Their  Stories.  With  86  illustrations.  8°,  gilt 
top  .  $3.00 

Contents  :  Brandon,  Westover,  Shirley,  Marshall  House,  Clive 
den  (Chew  House),  Morris  House,  Van  Cortlandt  Manor  House,  Oak 
Hill  (The  Home  of  the  Livingstons),  Philipse  Manor  House,  Jumel 
House  (Fort  Washington),  Smith  House  (Sharon,  Conn.),  Pierce  Home 
stead  (Dorchester,  Mass.),  Parson  Williams's  House,  Varina  (Pocahon- 
tas),  Jamestown,  and  Williamsburg. 

More  Colonial  Homesteads 

And  Their  Stories.  With  81  illustrations.  8°,  gilt 
top  .  $3.00 

Contents:  Johnson  Hall,  Johnstown,  N.  Y.  ;  La  Chaumiere,  Du 
Prairie,  near  Lexington,  Kentucky  ;  Morven,  the  Stockton  Homestead, 
Princeton,  New  Jersey;  Scotia,  the  Glen-Sanders  House,  Schnectady, 
New  York  ;  Two  Schuyler  Homesteads,  Albany,  New  York  ;  Doughore- 
gan  Manor,  The  Carroll  Homestead,  Maryland  ;  The  Ridgely  House, 
Dover,  Delaware;  Other  "Old  Dover"  Stories  and  Houses;  Belmont 
Hall,  near  Smyrna,  Delaware  ;  Langdon  and  Wentworth  Homes,  in 
Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire. 

Where  Ghosts  Walk 

The    Haunts    of    Familiar    Characters    in    History    and 

Literature.    With  33  illustrations.      8°,  gilt  top,  $2.50 

"  In  this  volume  fascinating  pictures  are  thrown  upon  the  screen 

so  rapidly  that  we  have  not  time  to  have  done  with  our  admiration 

for  one  before  the  next  one  is  encountered.     .     .      .      Travel  of  this 

kind  does  not  weary.      It  fascinates." — .Yew   York  Times. 

Literary  Hearthstones 

Studies  of  the  Home  Life  of  Certain  Writers  and  Think 
ers.  Put  up  in  sets  of  two  volumes  each,  in  boxes. 
Fully  illustrated.  16°.  Price  per  volume  .  $1.50 

In  this  series,   Marion   Harland  presents,   not  dry  biographies, 
but.  as  indicated  in  the  sub-title,  studies  of  the  home-life  of  certain     « 
writers  and  thinkers.     The  volumes  will  be  found  as  interesting  as 
stories,  and,  indeed,  they  have  been  prepared  in  the  same  method  as    J 
would  be  pursued  in  writing  a  story,  that  is  to  say,  with  a  due  sense 
of  proportion.      They  were  prepared  in  the  very  neighborhoods  in 
which  the  subjects  of  them  lived,  wrought  and  died.     The  local 
color  is  thus  carefully  preserved.     The  first  issues  are 

I.— Charlotte  Bronte  at  Home.  2. — William  Cowper. 


Q.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and  London 


American  Historic  Towns 


Historic  Towns  of  New  England 

Edited  by  LYMAN  P.  POWELL.      With  introduction  by 

GEORGE  P.  MORRIS.     With  161  illustrations.     8°,  gilt 

top  .     $3-50 

CONTENTS  :     Portland,  by  Samuel  T.  Pickard  ;  Rutland,  by 

Edwin  D.    Mead  ;    Salem,   by  George   D.    Latimer ;    Boston,   by 

Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson  ;  Cambridge,  by  Samuel  A.  Eliot ; 

Concord,  by  Frank  A.   Sanborn  ;    Plymouth,  by  Ellen  Watson  ; 

Cape  Cod  Towns,  by  Katherine  Lee  Bates  ;  Deerfield,  by  George 

Sheldon  ;  Newport,  by  Susan  Coolidge  ;  Providence,  by  William 

B.   Weeden  ;  Hartford,  by   Mary  K.   Talcott  ;    New  Haven,  by 

Frederick  Hull  Cogswell. 

"  This  very  charming  volume  is  so  exquisitely  gotten  up,  the 
scheme  is  so  perfect,  the  fifteen  writers  have  done  their  work  with 
such  historical  accuracy,  and  with  such  literary  skill,  the  illustrations 
are  so  abundant  and  so  artistic,  that  all  must  rejoice  that  Mr.  iVwell 
ever  attempted  to  make  the  historical  pilgrimages." — Journal  of 
Education. 

Historic  Towns  of  the  Middle  States 

Edited  by  LYMAN  P.  POWELL.  With  introduction  by 
Dr.  ALBERT  SHAW.  With  135  illustrations.  8°,  gilt 
top  $3-5° 

CONTENTS  :  Albany,  by  W.  W.  Battershall  ;  Saratoga,  by 
TTTlen  H.  Wai  worth  ;  Schenectady,  by  Judson  S.  Landon  ;  New- 
burgh,  by  Adelaide  Skeel  ;  Tarrytown,  by  H.  W.  Mabie  ;  Brook 
lyn,  by  Harrington  Putnam  ;  New  York,  by  J.  B.  Gilder  ;  Buffalo, 
.by  Rowland  B.  Mahany  ;  Pittsburgh,  by  S.  H.  Church  ;  Phila 
delphia,  by  Talcott  Williams ;  Princeton,  by  W.  M.  Sloane  ; 
'Wilmington,  by  E  N.  Vallandigham. 

"  These  volumes  have  permanent  literary  and  historical  value. 
They  are  from  the  pens  of  authors  who  are  saturated  with  their 
themes,  and  do  not  write  to  order,  but  con  amore.  The  beautiful 
letterpress  adds  greatly  to  the  attractiveness  of  the  book." — The 
Watchman. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

27  West  23d  Street  24  Bedford  St.,  Strand 


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